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REMINISCENCES 

OF A PRIVATE 
COMPANY “G” 

FIRST ARKANSAS REGIMENT 
INFANTRY 



By W. E. BEVENS 


MAY, 1861 TO 1865 




REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 




W- E. BEVENS—1861. 






REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 


3 



W. E. BEVENS—1912. 







4 


REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 



THREE VETERANS OF COMPANY “G” 

Left to Right: John Cathey, W. E. Bevens, John R. 
Loftin, Sr. 





REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 


5 


Reminiscences Of A Private. 


When our children come from other states and from 
foreign lands to visit Jacksonport, the old home of their 
parents, they find the pitiful remnant of a village. Streets 
overgrown with weeds, dilapidated wooden cottages, a 
tumbled down brick court house, meet their eyes. One or 
two well kept homes and a prosperous general store only 
emphasize the prevailing air of decay- The visitors may 
walk a mile down the road to the old town Elizabeth, and 
find no trace of habitation. The persimmon, the paw paw 
and the muscadine flourish in spaces that were once busy 
streets. When they remember that this place lacked only 
one vote of being made the capital of the state they may 
ponder on the uncertainty of human destiny. 

But in 1861 Jacksonport was an important town. It 
was the county seat when Jackson county was muchlarge- 
er than it is now- Woodruff was a part of it and the whole 
formed a wealthy section of the state, the rich “bottoms” 
producing the finest cotton. Jacksonport was situated 
where Black River flows into White River, and was the 
center of distribution for many counties. At low water, 
which was the greater part of the year, it was at the head 
of navigation and people came from fifty miles to trade 
there, hauling overland all freight for Batesville and up¬ 
per points. 

It was then one of the great river towns, and one of 
the most fascinating occupations of my boyhood was 
watching the steamboats. We had two mail steamers, 
side-wheelers, up-to-date, with all kinds of accommoda¬ 
tions for passengers and freight, and I have seen nine 
steamers loading and unloading at once. One packet from 
Louisville, one from St. Louis, two from Memphis, two 
from Upper Black River, and two from New Orleans. I 





6 


REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 


have seen one of the last, “The Seminole,” with a load of 
fifteen hundred bales of cotton. 

At that time Jacksonport had a population of twenty- 
five hundred. The surrounding farms and plantations, 
cultivated by negro slaves, were owned by the Tunstalls, 
Waddells, Robinsons, Gardners and others. Old fashioned 
Southern hospitality prevailed in town and country, and 
we who were fortunate enough to live there “Befo de 
wah” think no other can ever equal it, no other town can 
ever boast of such beautiful girls, such handsome boys, 
such noble women, such brilliant men. 

When the war cry sounded Captain A. C. Pickett, a 
fine lawyer and an old Mexican War veteran, made up our 
company, and called it the “Jackson Guards.” This com¬ 
pany to the number of one hundred and twenty was form¬ 
ed of the best boys of the county. Sons of plantation- 
owners, lawyers, doctors, druggists, merchants,--the whole 
South rose as one man, to defend its rights. The young 
men, many of us barely twenty years of age, knew noth¬ 
ing of war. We thought we could take our trunks and 
dress suits. We besieged Capt- Pickett and nearly drove 
him to distraction with questions as to how many suits we 
should take. He nearly paralyzed us by telling us to leave 
behind all fancy clothes, and to take only one suit, a wool¬ 
en top shirt and two suits of underwear. 

The noble women of Jacksonport made our flag. The 
wife of Judge Robinson bought the silk in Memphis. Mrs. 
Densford made the stars and all the ladies, old and young, 
worked on it, for love of those who were to bear it in bat¬ 
tle. 

On the Fifth of May, 1861 we were ready. It was a 
gloomy day. The rain poured in torrents, but our compa¬ 
ny formed and marched to the Presbyterian church where 
the flag was to be presented. Every living soul in town 
was there, streets, yard and church overflowed with peo- 
nle, notwithstanding the rain. We had seats reserved for 
us, and felt very grand as we watched the young ladies on 
the platform. We thought they were the sweetest girls 
living, and the most beautiful- Misses Mary Thomas 
Caldwell, Fannie Board, Pauline Hudson, and others were 



REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 7 


there. Miss Caldwell presented the colors with a short 
and touching speech. Sydney S. Gause received it in the 
name of the company, replying beautifully. There was 
not a dry eye in the throng. Mothers were there 
who saw their sons perhaps for the last time. Fathers 
bade adieu to noble boys whom they had brought 
up to manly deeds of honor- Sisters separated from 
brothers. Sweethearts gave farewell to those whom 
they would love unto death- Who would not be 
moved to tears? We marched to the boat, and on the 
bank we stopped to give a last embrace to mother, wife 
sister, sweetheart. That spot was hallowed with the 
tears that dropped upon the ground. 

The boat was the Mary Patterson, named for an Au¬ 
gusta lady, wife of one of our great lawyers. It’s owner, 
Captain Morgan Bateman with great generosity, offered 
to take us to Memphis- He was a man of commanding 
ability, or he could never have handled so many wild 
young men. He never received a cent for his liberality, 
but he did not care. (He afterwards came back and made 
up a company of his own, with the assistance of his broth¬ 
er who went with him.) 

When we were on board at last the boat pulled off 
from shore, amid waving handkerchiefs and shouts, 
“Good-bye, good-bye/’ and no one present ever forgot 
that day. 

We had with us an Italian Band which had come up 
from New Orleans and became stranded in Jacksonport. 
It was a great band and afforded us much pleasure until 
we got to Memphis. 

At every town, landing and woodpile there was a 
crowd to cheer us. At Grand Glaize there happened a 
near-tragedy, which was averted by Captain Pick¬ 
ett and Captain Morgan. • When we reached Des Arc, 
from which place we expected to march overland to Little 
Rock, Captain Pickett received a telegram from the gov¬ 
ernor to send in by wire our votes for Colonel of the Reg¬ 
iment and then proceed to Memphis. By Captain’s Pick¬ 
ett’s advice our company voted for Flournay. The rest of 
the Regiment voted for Fagin, who was elected. Fagin 



8 


REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 


ever afterward felt hard toward Captain Pickett. 

We arrived at Memphis Thursday, May 9th. We 
marched to the Fair Grounds to await the arrival of the 
rest of the Regiment, and were put into the same quar¬ 
ters with an Irish Regiment from Tennessee- 

I was put on guard inside the Fair Grounds. It rain¬ 
ed ail night. I had on new pump-soled boots, and being 
by mistake, left on duty, these tight boots caused me con¬ 
siderable pain. When the sergeant asked me how long I 
had been on duty I answered “all night.” He informed 
me that I should have been on guard only two hours. 1 
thought it a part of the game to stay on all night. So 
much for being a soldier fool! 

The next day we were organized and oflicers were 
elected for the twelve months. They were. 

A. C. Pickett, Captain. 

L. C. Gause, First Lieutenant. 

L. L- Moore, Second Lieutenant. 

George Payne, Third Lieutenant. 

James Hunter, Orderly Sergeant. 

William Densford, First Sergeant. 

John R. Loftin, Second Sergeant. 

Peter Bach, Third Sergeant. 

Clay Lowe, Fourth Sergeant. 

John M. Waddell, First Corporal. 

Henry Clements, Second Corporal. 

Sam Shoup, Third Corporal. 

W. E. Be'vens, Fourth Corporal 

When the captain took charge there were only two 
men in the company who knew anything about military 
tactics or could even keep step. We stayed in Memphis 
four days. On Sunday afternoon with our new banner 
proudly waving, we marched through Memphis to the de¬ 
pot of the Memphis and Charleston Railway, where we 
entrained for Richmond, Va. Along the line of march 
were thousands of people and at every station was shown 
such enthusiasm as was never before known in the. South. 
Everyone came down to greet us. Old men and women, 
young girls, even the negroes. We were showered with 
bouquets. We were delayed at different stations by the 



REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 


9 



CAPT. A. C. PICKETT 

First Captain of Company “G”, First Arkansas Infantry 





10 


REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 


crowds. They came to see the Arkansas Troops, and to 
hear Captain Bob Crockett speak. He was a conspicuous 
character from the manner of his dress, and also a cele¬ 
brity from being a grandson of old David Crockett, hence 
was often called on for a speeah. On one occasion, how¬ 
ever, some of the soldiers asked several citizens to call 
for Private J. R. Fellows, one of the best orators :n the 
South. He so far eclipsed Captain Crockett that the lat¬ 
ter ever after took second place. 

We passed through Knoxville and Bristol, debatable 
territory because Etheridge Brownlow and Andy John¬ 
son, Union men of great ability and influence, lived in 
these places. To say there were hot times in these old 
towns would be putting it mildly—“red hot” would be 
about right. 

At Bristol John M. Waddell took sick and I was de¬ 
tailed to stay with him at the hotel to which he was car¬ 
ried. He was delirious and kept calling for his mother, 
who lived in North Carolina. He was a Christian boy, and 
was ready to die, but how natural to want his mother in 
his distress. But he got better and we resumed our jour¬ 
ney to Richmond, where we rejoined our regiment. We 
camped in the fair ground and were reviewed often by 
President Davis at dress parade. 

I think that to him we must have looked verv cheap 
indeed. We did not know what discipline was, find resent¬ 
ed beng shown. The boys used to steal through the lines 
and spend most of their time in the city. Bill Barnes 
drew some pictures of “Company G in Richmond,” which 
caused quite a little trouble at home. 

We went from Richmond to Fredericksburg and there 
camped in the city awhile. Wethen moved to Brook’s Sta¬ 
tion, and at this camp had cadets from Richmond to drill 
us. And I should sav they did drill us! Eight hours a 
day, with a big gun, knapsack and accoutrements weigh¬ 
ing us down, the hot sun blazing over us. How we did 
perspire! We were not used to such strenuous exercise. 
The town boys, clerks and young fellows could stand it 
better than the robust country boys, and that seemed 
queer to us. 

At this camp John M. Waddell took sick with mea- 



REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 11 


sles. The Regiment lost over fifty men from this dis¬ 
ease. Waddell was discharged and went home. After 
his recovery he joined a North Carolina Regiment, and 
served with them through the war. He w'as a gentleman 
in the truest sense of the word- We hated to lose him. 
From Brooks’ Station we went to Aquia Creek, and from 
there to Marlboro Point on the Potomac. We camped at 
a point where this beautiful stream was four miles wide. 
W. M. Maltens, our company color-bearer waded into the 
river and unfurled our flag, the handsome silk one given 
us by the Jacksonport ladies. “Jackson Guards” was 
very plain upon it, and it was displayed in full sight of 
the enemy’s war vessels. We were lined up on the bank 
to defend our colors. This shows how green we were in 
knowledge of warfare and we realized it later. 

From Fredericksburg, five companies of our Regi¬ 
ment and five companies of Col. Bates’ Second Tennessee 
Regiment wtere under Col. Cary. He was a West Pointer, 
a fine man and officer, but he certainly did drill us eight 
hours every day. During drill our orderly sergeant, a 
regular army man, used to prompt us when new moves 
were given. One morning he was angry at Captain Pick¬ 
ett. When Col. Cary gave the command “Double quick 
by companies” there was no prompting and Captain 
Pickett failed to repeat the command. The sergeant had 
his revenge for we were double-quicking by fours to the 
line on the right and proceeded by ourselves. Col. Cary 
shouted “Captain Pickett where are you going with your 
company?” amid the laughter of the rest of the regi¬ 
ment. 

At this camp Bill Shackelford used to go fishing for 
crabs in the Potomac. He would miss roll-call and have 
to serve extra duty. The boys begged him to stop this 
but he said if he could get crabs to eat he did not mind 
extra duty. One night Bill had some fun at the expense 
of the officer whose duty it was to pass through the tents 
and see that all were in bed. We had a big Sibley tent 
in which twenty-two men slept. As the officer passed 
through the tent, Bill who was a ventriloquist, squealed 
like a pig. Of course the officer looked everywhere for 





12 


REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 


the pig. As he passed to the other side of the tent Bill 
barked like a dog. Then the officer asked for the man 
that did it. Of course all were asleep and knew nothing 
about it. He said he would arrest the entire company if 
it occurred again. Bill did not try it again. 

One day Clay Lowe had cooked some corn-bread and 
left it on the table, feeling that he had done a good piece 
of work. After dinner a big man in uniform stepped up 
and broke open a piece of bread. Clay was about to call 
him to account in words not very choice, when the big 
man explained that he was General Holmes, commander 
of the troops. Clay had to beg his pardon and salute the 
General, and the General in return complimented Clay on 
his bread. 

At this camp we had jumping matches. Bob Bond 
was our champion and no one could beat him in the whole 
command of one thousand troops, and he was never beat¬ 
en in the army. 

We also gave dances, and tied handkerchiefs on the 
arms of the smallest boys to take the part of ladies in 
making up square dances. Joe Hamilton, Rich Hayden 
and Billie Barnes were as fine musicians as any and we 
often had hilarious times along the Potomac. 

On July 17th, 1861 we were ordered to cook three 
days’ rations, and be ready at daylight to join our regi¬ 
ment and march to Manassas Gap. We marched forty- 
seven miles and on July 21, were camped in an orchard at 
the extreme right of our army, with orders to be ready 
at a moment’s notice. We were in line of battle all after¬ 
noon and chafed to be in the fight. We could hear the 
cannonading. It seems that the courier who was bring¬ 
ing our orders to move at once was captured and we did 
• not get the command. “The third time is the charm” and 
finally the third courier brought news of the battle with 
orders to double-quick eight miles- We made this in one 
hour and forty minutes. On this hot July day the red 
dust stirred up by our running made us look like red men. 
We hardly knew the features of our file leader. While on 
this run we saw some sizzling looking things streaming 
through the air. One of the boys said “Captain, what are 



REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 


13 


those things going through the air?” Captain Pickett 
replied, “You damned fool, you will know soon.” 

We got there in the nick of time. We were thrown 
into line of battle and could see in front of us the enemy, 
with glistening bayonets, forward marching, line after 
line of them. We had a four gun battery, belonging to 
Holmes’ Brigade, commanded by Captain Walker. He 
was ordered to place his guns on a small hill in our front. 
He unlimbered and was ready for action. We' were order¬ 
ed to load our guns and lie dowft behind the battery to 
protect it if charged. The captain gave the order to fire 
upon some Yankees who were advancing boldly. As he 
gave the order he was sitting on his big horse with his 
feet across the horse’s neck. The first shot did not reach 
the spot; so he got down, sighted the gun himself, and 
got back on his horse to watch the result. As the shot 
plowed through the enemy’s ranks it looked like cutting 
wheat, and the Captain said: “Give them hell” The 
four guns made roads through them and with the Infan¬ 
try on the other flank they could not stand the fire. The 
Yankees broke in every direction and never did stop. As 
this was their last stand we moved forward, and the 
Black Horse Cavalry passed. This was the finest cavalry 
1 ever saw. All the horses were black and the uniforms 
of the men were handsome to behold. After the Cavalry 
Johnson, Beauregard and President Davis with all their 
staff, were near us, and the sight was beautiful. We 
turned the flank of the enemy and the Black Horse Cav¬ 
alry did the rest. The first battle of Manassas was a 
great battle and a perfect success. 

After the break we were ordered to be down in line 
of battle and await orders. Part of the Washington Bat¬ 
tery was near us- This was an organization of fine boys 
from New Orleans. After fighting all day they had be¬ 
come separated, part of their battery being in one part of 
the field, and part in another. After the battle they were 
hunting their comrades and trying to get the full battery 
together. Such chatter- Such individual accounts of the 
battle! They told us of their share in the fight. How 
they fought the enemy from rear and front and side, and 





14 


REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 


how the Yankees had run off! It was inside history of 
the battle from privates who were in it- The whole truth 
of the first battle of Manassas is this: It was fought by 
undisciplined troops, without previous experience in bat¬ 
tle, on a field they had never trod before. They fought as 
individuals, and if the officers had not been with them 
they would have fought just the same. 

This was proved, for had they been disciplined troops 
they would have surrendered when cut off from their 
command, but not having any better sense they did not 
know when they were whipped. On this field they fought 
regular army troops with all the advantage of years and 
experience. Even our General was doubtful and thought 
they could not cope with the great army of Scott. But 
when he saw the Southern boys in action, he saw what, 
to this day, is the wonder of the world, that we were not 
to be whipped in six months. 

This battle was a hard rap to those who intended to 
profit by it had it gone the other way. The Grand Army 
left Washington commanded by the invincible General 
Scott, having placards on their hats bearing the motto, 
“On to Richmond.” Congressmen, with their wives fol¬ 
lowed, together with the elite of Washington, all riding 
in carriages. They also wore badges with the ever-ready 
slogan, “On to Richmond.” They had trunks plastered 
with the same motto. They carried champaigne and were 
ready for the celebration of a great fete when they should 
have witnessed the downfall of the Confederacy. Before 
the battle it was a holiday for them, with their wine, and 
their hope of an easy route of the rebels, and the pleasant 
anticipation of the capture of soldiers and congressmen of 
the Confederacy. But after the battle—ah, it was no hol¬ 
iday then! What a blow" to their pride was the result. 
How they tore back to Washington- Their own account 
of the first battle of Manassas was truly pitiful. We 
could have easily gone into Washinton, but at that time 
we did not want to go into their territory, all we desired 
was to defend our own homes, property and states, which 
were ours according to the constitution. 

At daylight we marched to Dumfries, thirty miles 



REMINISCENCES OF A. PRIVATE 


15 


back from the station, then to Culpepper court house, and 
from there to the pine thicket back from Evansport. 
With us were Captain Walker’s battery. (Captain Wal¬ 
ker afterwards became General of Artillery) and the 
Thirteenth North Carolina Infantry. With their assist¬ 
ance, working at night with great secrecy, we built bat¬ 
teries to blockade the Potomac, which was only a mile and 
a half wide at this point. We built three batteries in one 
mile and mounted large seige guns. The enemy was 
greatly astonished on the morning we cut the pine thick¬ 
et and laid our guns open to view. 

We next made sail boats and tug boats and schoon¬ 
ers. These captured a three masted vessel. When the 
tugs came towing it to shore we went out and got it. 
Later we had a hard time finding a sailor to set the sails. 
Finally one was discovered in our own company, and as 
soon as he got on the vessel he ran up the rigging like a 
genuine sailor. We found the rooms of the captured ves¬ 
sel very fancy. It had a piano on board, and a good deal 
of nice grub- We unloaded her and then burned her. 

We certainly did blockade that river and stop trans¬ 
portation to Washington by way of the Potomac. Then 
the Yankees built a railroad on the opposite side back 
from the river and supplied the gap in that manner. We 
used to bombard the men over there and kill them and 
their six mule teams. This caused consternation as you 
may guess. 

A small yacht with two on board ran the block¬ 
ade. Our batteries opened up on them. The balls ex¬ 
ploded above and around them, sometimes splashing the 
water so that we could not see them for the spray. For 
awhile it seemed as if we had them, but they got through. 
The yacht was so small that we could not hit it. When 
they got by, the men waved their hats, as much as to say, 
“Goodbye”, but they never tried to repeat the perform¬ 
ance. 

One night the enemy ran up a creek by the upper bat¬ 
tery, where we had a schooner out and away from the 
river. In the darkness they passed our guards and burn¬ 
ed the schooner. The guards were new recruits and very 
green. They sent to headquarters to ask what they 




16 


REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 


could do. Of course the Yanks had plenty of time to get 
back to the Potomac. We built huts out of logs, placing 
them in the side of the hill and roofing them with a foot 
and a half of earth to keep out the rain. A few of the 
boys had tents, but I think our log huts were more com¬ 
fortable, for we covered the floors over with straw. We 
passed most of the winter here. Our Maryland boys 
used to cross the river in skiffs at night to visit their 
homes, and return before daylight. 

The Second Tennessee, commanded by Colonel Bates, 
camped along with us that winter. One day Colonel 
Bates ordered some work done which did not agree with 
the dignity of his men. They refused to do it, saying they 
“were gentle,” and asking him to resign. He at once 
wrote out his resignation and gave it to them. He told 
them he would as soon be a private as be an officer. That 
a private must obey, and he was as willing to obey any 
officer over him as they should be to obey an officer over 
them. He was a great man, and a fine speaker- At the 
close of his speech they tore up his resignation and re¬ 
elected him colonel. 

Colonel Fagin once ordered some boys of our company 
to set up his tent but they refused. They came back to 
the company and told us about it, also informed Captain 
Pickett who went to Colonel Fagin and got them out of it. 

So much for raw undisciplined troops. 

Christmas was at hand. Our first Christmas in a sol¬ 
dier’s camp! How homesick we were as we thought of 
the people at home and wondered how they were spending 
Christmas; Here were their boys fifteen hundred miles 
from them, living in dark huts, wading snow a foot and a 
half deep. We did not know that the time would come 
when these dark, rude huts would seem luxurious quar¬ 
ters. 

Our mess was composed of George Thomas, Clay 
Lowe, Bob Bond and myself. George had been left behind 
at Fredericksburg, where he was ill for some time. He 
and a private from another company decided to come to 
camp and spend Christmas with the boys. They left the 
train and tramped a mile and a half to surprise the mess, 
arriving in the nick of time. George said they could not 


REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 


17 


bring us turkey, so they brought some whiskey and eggs- 
They began beating eggs early Christmas morning, and 
they made a huge pan full of egg-nog. We invited the 
officers and our friends to take some with us. In the even¬ 
ing the boys went for Col. Fagin and invited him to drink 
egg-nog. By that time they were pretty full and Clay 
Lowe told Col. Fagin that he wanted him; to understand 
that he was “Fifth Sergeant of Company G.” He succeed¬ 
ed in impressing the Colonel with his rank. Then every¬ 
one began to make things lively. 

I did not touch the egg-nog, therefore did not enjoy 
their hilarity. I left the hut, found Sam Shoup in his hut, 
and we went out and sat by the fire thinking we were 
away from the crowd. But the boys did not intend to let 
us off so easily. When we came back into the hut we 
could not see very well. The cabin was dark, as the only 
light came from the doorway, and the snow had blinded 
us. The boys made a rush for us. I got into a dark cor¬ 
ner, and after they were all in we both ran out. They 
caught Sam, but failed to get me. 

Clay Lowe, followed by about twenty-five of the boys, 
went down to the middle of the company grounds and 
commenced to make a speech, which he could do so well. 
Some of the boys, not wishing Clay to have all the glory, 
put John Loftin on the stump to make an address and he 
began: “My friends, I am not as eloquent as Clay, but I 
speak more to the point.” 

That evening at dress parade, Sam Shoup as corporal 
had to march out and present arms, reporting two com¬ 
missioned officers, four non-commissioned officers, and 
twenty-seven privates drunk. The rest of the regiment 
was there, and to our consternation, we were ordered to 
cook three days’ rations and be ready to march at day¬ 
light. The order read that any private who straggled or 
failed to keep up with the command would be court mar- 
tialed. 

When we stopped late next evening on the march, 
Clav was nearly dead and could hardly walk, from the 
effect of the Christmas spree. Colonel Fagin rode along 
by our company and seeing how Clay was said, “Hello, 
Fifth Sergeant of Company G, how do you feel?” Clay 



18 


REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 


repled, “Colonel, I am damned dry; how are you ?” 

December 26, 1861, we reached Aquia Creek and went 
into winter quarters in log huts and tents. Here we had 
“Sunday Soldiering.” We were close to Fredericksburg, 
and could order what we wanted to eat. Confederate 
money was good and we could grab things cheap with it. 
Fifty cents a gallon for shelled oysters; twenty-five cents 
a pound for butter; pies and cakes every day. Think of 
such grub for a soldier! But, ah, to stay in the snow, 
eighteen inches deep, and guard the Potomac river all 
night! No shelter, but a corn stalk house; no fire, but a 
driftwood blaze, not very bright either, as it would be a 
signal for the enemy to cannonade. That was like war and 
soldier duty- 

We had three points to guard on the river, one on the 
island with battery, and one at the lower end of the line. 
It required a whole company for all points at night, since 
the guard had to be relieved every twenty minutes. Oth¬ 
erwise he would have been frozen by the snow and sleet 
which swept across the Potomac. 

One night a squad from our company under a sergeant 
was ordered to the island, which was only guarded at 
night. We had to cross over in a flat boat. The evening 
before supplies had been sent to the island for the use of 
the Battery Company and they had failed to haul them. 
The squad on the lower part of the guard line found* them, 
all unused, in a pile on the landing. The night was bitter 
cold, the snow was deep, the wind blowing a gale, no wood 
was in sight. The supplies were bacon. It was good to 
eat, and in this emergency it was good to burn, so the 
boys proceeded to burn it- Dawn revealed other things 
besides bacon. They discovered two jugs of red liquor, 
which they immediately confiscated. At daylight they 
were ordered to camp two miles away and proceeded to 
march—and drink on empty stomachs until the whole 
squad was drunk. We, on the upper part of the guard 
line, had to wait in the snow and wind until they came 
up, for all must report in camp together. We did not 
know what caused their delay, but we were in no pious 



REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 


19 


frame of mind when we saw them coming, wabbling from 
side to side, yelling like Commanches. The officers with 
us were red-headed and said things to that squad that 
“were bad”. 

But the boys from the lower end knew how dry the 
officers were after being out all night, so they offered the 
jug of snake bite medicine. The officers found it so good 
they did not let it go in a hurry. After that the privates 
could not refuse for fear of making the boys angry. By 
the time we reached camp almost everybody was over¬ 
come. The officers went to sleep, and when they awoke 
they forgot all about discipline. So nobody suffered but 
the Battery fellows, and they could never prove who cap¬ 
tured their supplies. 

Sometimes a company would buy a barrel of oysters, 
take it to their hut and open it, and find in the center .? 
five gallon jug of red rye. It was so concealed to pass 
the provost guard on train. But the boys did even worse- 
Seven of them, from other commands, went to Fredericks¬ 
burg, bought a coffin and filled it with jugs. With sad 
faces and measured steps they carried it solemnly to the 
train. But the joke was too good to keep. The boys un¬ 
screwed the lid and yelled at the guard. Of course, when 
the train returned no one could name the offenders. 

But our “Sunday Soldiering” did not last long. The 
regiment was composed of one year troops, who now re¬ 
enlisted for three years, or for the war. The re-enlisted 
men were ordered to rendezvous at Memphis, to reorgan¬ 
ize the regiment, but later were ordered to Corinth, Mis¬ 
sissippi. 

The Virginia people had been good to us, and had 
tried to make us feel at home. Some of the boys had gone 
into society at Fredericksburg, and found it hard to part 
from their new friends. George (my old friend, George 
Thomas) “had it mighty bad.” He said to me, “Bill, I 
must go to Fredericksburg to see my girl. Will you cook 
my three days’ rations? I’ll meet you at the train to¬ 
morrow.” But Pard, how will you get off?” I’ll ask Col. 
Fellows. He went to Colonel Fellows, who was in charge 
that day and told his tale of woe. The colonel was in 



20 


REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 


deep sympathy with the boy (perhaps he had had the dis- 
ease himself sometime,) and agreed to help him. George 
went to Fredericksburg, and the next day I saw him there 
v/ith his girl. Our train pulled out, I yelled at him, but 
still he lingered. They gazed and gazed ai each other, and 
it seemed that George did not have the nerve to tear him¬ 
self away. Finally they parted and by hard running he 
caught the train and stood waving to her until we were 
out of sight. The mails were kept hot after that. Poor 
George was killed at Atlanta. He was the bravest man 
I ever knew, and if he had lived, would have made that 
girl a noble husband. 

March 17, 1862, at Corinth, Mississippi, the reorgani¬ 
zation of the regiment took place. The newly elected offi¬ 
cers of Company G were: 


Samuel Shoup, Captain- 

A. T. Watchell, First Lieutenant. 

Clay Lowe, Second Lieutenant. 

John R. Loftin, Third Lieutenant. 

W. B. Densford, First Sergeant. 

Henry Clements, Second Sergeant. 

W. H. Reid, Third Sergeant. 

George Spaulder, Fourth Sergeant. 

Thomas Davis, First Corporal- 

John W. Baird, Second Corporal. 

T. S. Logan, Third Corporal. 

Forrest Dillard, Fourth Corporal. 

We camped at Corinth, Mississippi, and the army 
was under General Beauregard until General Albert 
Sydney Johnston arrived. April 4th we marched to 
Shiloh, arriving there April 5th. The constant rains had 
made the roads so bad that we had to pull the cannon by 
hand as the horses mired in the mud. But by this time 
we were used to hardships, and nothing discouraged that 
superb commander, General Albert Sydney Johnston, 
Every soldier loved him and was ready to follow him to 
the death. At the battle of Shiloh we were placed in the 
Gibson Brigade, Braggs’ Division. On the night before 
the battle the Medical Department ordered six men from 
each company to report to headquarters for instructions- 




REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 


21 



L. C. GAUSE 

First Lieutenant Company “G”, First Arkansas Infantry 





REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 


23 



CLAY LOWE. 

Second Lieutenant Company “G”, First Ark.Infantry 







22 


REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 


I was one of the six to report from our company. The 
Surgeon General ordered us to leave our guns in camp and 
follow behind, the company and six paces, as an infirmary 
corps to take care of the wounded. We reported our in¬ 
structions to Captain Shoup, telling him we woud not 
leave our guns, as we intended to fight. After hard plead¬ 
ing Captain Shoup consented. We took our guns and al¬ 
so looked after the wounded- 

At four o’clock in the morning we began the march 
on the enemy. Each man had forty cartridges, all moving 
acoutrements and three days’ rations. General Johnston 
was cheered as he rode by our command and I remember 
his words as well as if they had been today, “Shoot low 
boys; it takes two to carry one off the field.” 

Before we started Captain Scales of the Camden 
Company, begged his negro servant to stay in camp at 
Corinth, but the old negro would not leave his master. 
When we were in line of battle the captain again begged 
the negro to return to camp, but he refused to go. Just 
after the last appeal the fight began- A cannon ball whiz¬ 
zed through the air and exploded, tearing limbs from 
trees, wounding the soldiers. One man fell dead in front 
of the old negro. Then there was a yell, and old Sam 
shouted, “‘Golly, Marster, I can’t stand this,” and set out 
in a run for Corinth. 

We moved forward with shot and shell, sweeping 
everything before us- We drove the officers from their 
hot coffee and out of the tents, capturing their camp and 
tents. Captain Shoup and John Loftin and Clay Lowe 
each got a sword. In the quartermaster’s tent we found 
thousands of dollars in crisp, new bills, for they had 
been paying off the Yankee soldiers. 

Thad Kinman of the 7th Arkansas, who was under 
Ellenburg, quartermaster department, had loaded a chest 
ir»to a wagon when he was ordered to “throw that stuff 
away.” He told us afterwards, “That was one time that 
I was sick,” but Ellenburg would not let him keep it. 

Our command moved steadily forward for a mile or 
more. The Yankees had time to halt the fleeing ones, 
form a line of infantry and make a stand in an old road 
in a thicket. We were to the left of the thicket, fighting 
all the time in this part of the field. I saw Jim Stimson 



24 


REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 


fall, and being on the Infirmary Corps, I went to him. I 
cut his knapsack loose and placed it under his head, tied 
my handkerchief about his neck, and then saw that he was 
dead. I took up my gun again, when in front I saw a line 
of Yankees two thousand strong, marching on the flank. 
I could see the buttons on their coats. I thought I would 
get revenge for my dead comrade, so I leveled beside a 
tree, took good aim at a Yankee, and fired- About that 
time the Yankees fronted and fired. Hail was nothing to 
that rain of lead. I looked around and found only four 
of our company. One was dead, two were wounded and I 
was as good as dead I thought, for I had no idea I could 
ever get away. To be shot in the back was no soldier’s 
way, so I stepped backward at a lively pace until I got 
over the ridge and out of range, assisting the wounded 
boys at the same time. I had not heard the command to 
oblique to the right and close up a gap, and that was how 
we four happened to be alone in the wood. But I did 
some running then, found my regiment at the right of 
the thicket and fell into rank. When I got there the com¬ 
pany was in a little confusion through not understanding 
a command, whether they were to move forward or ob¬ 
lique to right. Captain Shoup thought his men were 
wavering, so he stepped in front of the company, un¬ 
sheathed his new sword and told the boys to follow him. 
He had scarcely finished with the wiords when a bullet 
struck his sword and went through wood and steel. The 
boys were red-headed. They told him he did not have to 
lead them. They were ready to go anywhere- So we 
went forward into the hottest of the battle where the roar 
of musketry was incessant, and the cannonading fairly 
shook the ground. Men fell around us as leaves from the 
trees. Our regiment lost two hundred and seventy, kill¬ 
ed, wounded and captured. The battle raged all day and 
when night came the enemy had been pushed back to the 
verge of the Tennessee river. But our victory had been 
won at a great price, in the loss of our beloved General, 
Albert Sydney Johnston, who was killed early in the ac¬ 
tion. 

General Beauregard, next in command, succeeded 



REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 25 


Johnston, and the battle opened again at daylight the 
next morning. During the night the enemy had been 
strongly re-inforced, and our men were steadily pressed 
back. 

John Cathey, John R. Loftin, Waddell and I were a- 
mong the wounded. We were sent to the field hospital 
several miles back in the wood. When the Surgeon Gen¬ 
eral went to work on me he gave me a glass of whiskey, 
saying it would help me bear the pain. I told him I would 
not drink it. He then handed me a dose of morphine. I 
refused that- He looked- me squarely in the face, saying, 
“Are you a damned fool?” 

Our men, fighting stubbornly all the while, were push¬ 
ed back by superior force through and beyond the Yan¬ 
kee camps we had captured so easily the day before, and 
at last retreated to Corinth, amidst a terrible storm of 
rain and sleet. We had lost about ten thousand men. 
That was the beginning of our real soldiering and the 
greatest battle we had been in. About thirty thousand 
men were killed, wounded and captured in those two days, 
the loss on each side being fifteen thousand. 

At Corinth we awaited re-inforcements and prepared 
to renew the struggle. The Yankee forces advanced to 
Farmington, and we had a little more fighting. They cap¬ 
tured one of our outposts, then we drove them back to 
their lines. Colonel Fellows was always on the front line. 
At this battle he plunged after some cavalry, following 
them he struck low, boggy ground. He got stuck in the 
mud and lost his hat, but succeeded in capturing the ene¬ 
my. 

We kept heavy guards at night. One night eighteen 
of our company were put on out-post, but our cavalry was 
still further out- George Thomas and I were stationed 
inside a fence row. We were told not to fire, and we were 
to be relieved before daybreak. We were not relieved 
however, and when day came we found ourselves only a 
short distance from the Yankee breastworks; We could 
have kept concealed by the grass and bushes, but George, 
who knew not the meaning of fear, stood in his corner of 
the fence-row. As he watched the Yankees walking their 




26 


REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 


beats on the breastworks he thought it a good opportuni¬ 
ty, and before I knew it, he had shot his man. Oh, then 
three cannon and two thousand infantry turned loose on 
us! The fence was knocked to smithereens* The rails, 
filled with bullets, crashed over us. Limbs falling from 
trees, covered us, and we were buried beneath the debris 
like ground hogs. We could not get out until darkness 
fell again. Then we found some of our cavalry, and tried 
to get back to our regiment, but the Yanks were between 
us and our command. The cavalry said we could fight 
our way through their lines, and we did. The cavalry soon 
left us behind. Yankees were shooting all around us and 
yelling for us to surrender, but we ran into a ravine, 
where we were hidden by the thick undergrowth, and so 
we got away. 

On May 29, 1862, General Beauregard evacuated Cor¬ 
inth. We retreated on a dark night through a densely 
wooded bottom road. About two o’clock we halted. As 
soon as we stopped we dropped in the road anywhere, any¬ 
how, and were fast asleep. Some devilish boy got two 
trace chains and came running over the sleeping men, 
rattling the chains, yelling '“Whoa! Whoa!” at the top 
of his voice. Of course all the commotion—we had it 
then. Soldiers grasped the guns at their sides, officers 
called, “Fall in, fall in men.” When the joke was discov¬ 
ered it would have been death to that man, but no one 
ever knew “who struck Billy Patterson.” 

We marched forty miles and camped at Twenty Mile 
Creek on the Mobile and Ohio railroad. On June 5th we 
reached Tupelo. We were put in Anderson’s Division of 
General Walker’s Brigade and camped at Tupelo until 
August 4th, when we were ordered to Montgomery, Ala. 

We went on the train to Mobile. Here I went up into 
the city with Colonel Snyder and two of his friends, I 
being the only private among them. It seemed ages since 
we had enjoyed a square meal. We went into a fine res¬ 
taurant near the Hotel Battle House, four half-starved 
Confederate soldiers. Just at the smell of oyster stew I 
collapsed- But we ordered everything—oysters raw, 
fried, stewed, fresh red snapper; just everything. We ate. 
I hope we ate! I think that proprietor was astounded, 




REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 


27 


but it was only our pocketbooks that suffered. At last 
when we could eat no more, we had fine cigars, and as 
Dr. Scott said later, “This was good enough for a dog.” 

We went from Mobile to the railroad station on the 
bay, where the water flows under the platform. The train 
was two hours late, so the boys shed their clothes, and in 
ten minutes there were a thousand men in the bay. They 
swam about splashing, kicking, diving, having fun until 
soipe of the boys went in where the palm flags were grow¬ 
ing and espied a large alligator with his mouth wide open. 
In less time than it takes to tell it there was not a sol¬ 
dier in the bay. Strange! Men, who had stood firm in 
battle, had faced cannon, had endured shot and shell, now 
fled from one alligator! 

We went by rail to Montgomery, where we arrived 
August 7th. We went into camp near the river and had a 
cIn nee to swim without fear of alligators. 

Montgomery, as the first capital of the Confederacy, 
was a noted place and many celebrated people lived there. 
Dr. Arnold and I had bought ourselves “boiled” white 
sh ; rts. thinking we might be invited into society, but we 
seemed to have been forgotten by the “haut ton.” But it 
was a beautiful city and we inspected it thoroughly. We 
were too many for the police, so they “gave us rope to 
hang ourselves.” 

We went on next day to Atlanta. When we got there 
we hoped to eat a big Georgia watermelon, but to our 
consternation, found the provost guard destroying every 
watermelon in the city. They were fresh, red and juicy 
and made our mouths water, but discipline had improv¬ 
ed and we touched not, tasted not, handled not the un¬ 
clean watermelons. The doctor said they would make us 
sick. Citizens and negroes might eat them. For soldiers 
they were sure poison. 

We passed up the Sequatchee Valley with its fine 
springs, stone milk houses, and rich bottom land. We 
camped on Cumberland Mountain and we camped on Can- 
ey Fork. We marched thirty-five miles to Sparta, Ten¬ 
nessee, and camped, and there we were ordered to wash 
our clothes and to cook three days’ rations. All this 
marching was on the famous Bragg Kentucky Campaign 




28 


REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 


and the old general trained us to walk until horses could 

not beat us. We marched eleven, twelve, thirteeen- 

_fifty miles. We waded the Cumberland river, and it 

was very swift and deep- My messmjate, Bob Bond, found 
a sweetheart here, but he could not tarry and they part¬ 
ed in tears. We camped at Red Sulphur Springs, march¬ 
ed thirty-eight miles and camped on the Tennessee and 
Kentucky line. We passed through Glasgow, marching 
all night. These forced marches were hard on us, season¬ 
ed infantry as we were. Dr. Arnold, my file leader said: 

“Bill, I can’t go any further, don’t you see I go to 
sleep walking? I can’t stand it any longer.’’ 

“You’re no good,” I replied, “you can stand it as well 
as I can, besides if you leave the road you will be captured 
and will have to eat rats.” 

“Goodbye, old friend, I am gone,” was his answer. 
He ran into the wood twenty or thirty feet from the road, 
dropped down and was asleep by the time he hit the 
ground. 

He said when he awoke he heard sabres clashing and 
cavalry passing. He thought he “was a goner”, but he 
soon heard the familiar voice of General Hardee.- He was 
calling to get up and go on. He said even a soldier’s en¬ 
durance had a limit, and that limit was now reached. We 
would not go much further without a rest- Then he order¬ 
ed his body guard to charge the sleeping men. Dr. Arnold 
had to run for his command or be court martialed. Pant¬ 
ing for breath, he joined us after we had gone into camp, 
and exclaimed, “Bill, I wish I had come on, for I am near¬ 
ly dead, and old General Hardee is after me hot and 
heavy.” 

On September 17th we left Case City at daybreak, 
and marched fifteen miles to Mumfordsville, which we 
surrounded, placing a battery on every hill and knoll that 
commanded the town. We had eighty cannon ready to 
open fire, and then demanded the surrender of the gar¬ 
rison, and on September 18th six thousand men marched 
out, laying down six thousand guns. While Will Reid of 
our company was loading guns into a wagon, one went 
off accidentally and shot off his arm. General Hardee was 
riding over the battlefield, and seeing Reid with his arm 



REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 


29 


dangling at his side asked his staff surgeon, Dave Yan- 
dell, “Who is that man’s surgeon ?” Yandell pointed out 
Dr. Young. Dr. Young had gone out in our company a 
graduate surgeon. He was young and up to that time he 
had made no operation of note. He begged the staff-sur¬ 
geon to help him, but Yandell refused, saying he had no 
time. He stayed, however, to look on, and embarrassed 
the young surgeon still more. When Dr- Young took the 
knife his hand shook like a leaf, but he performed the op¬ 
eration successfully and according to all the laws of sur¬ 
gery. After the war he returned to his home at Corinth, 
Mississippi, where he stood high in his profession. He 
died in 1892. 

At Mumfordsville while in line of battle, marching 
slowly and stopping often, we passed through an orchard. 
Nice juicy apples were lying all over the ground and one 
of the boys of a Louisiana Regiment, stooped down and 
picked up two or three. His colonel happened to be look¬ 
ing in his direction, and he had that boy gagged and buck¬ 
led everytime the line stopped. After that every soldier 
thought hell was too good for that colonel. 

On the 20th we marched all night and camped at day¬ 
light at New Haven. On the 21st we marched seventeen 
miles, and camped at Haginsville. On the 22nd we passed 
fine orchards. My partner, Dr. Arnold said to me, “If 
jou wiil carry my surplus luggage, I will take the risk and 
get some of those apples.” “Now Pard, you are in for 
more trouble.” But he would not listen, and taking his 
blanket to hold the apples he started off. 

He was not the only soldier under the trees, and 
while on a limb getting his share of the apples, lo and be¬ 
hold, the provost guard came to arrest them! He fairly 
fell from the tree, broke through the high corn and ran 
for his life, the guard calling after, “Halt, or I shoot.” 

He got back to us with the fruit but said the apples 
had cost him so much labor and so much fright that they 
did not taste good. Because we laughed at him, running 
with his load, he would not give us any until the next day. 

We marched fifteen miles and camped at Bardstown 
until October 4th, when we marched seventeen miles. We 
marched twelve miles and camped at Springfield. The 




30 


REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 


heat was terrible on those long sunny pikes, with never 
a sign to mark the grave of a hero, noble sacrifice to their 
cause. 

One day. an assistant surgeon carying an umbrella 
was marching along the pike in the rear of his regiment 
when General Hardee came along. The General had noth¬ 
ing to shield him from the sun but a little cap. He rode 
up to the surgeon and said, “What is your name?” 

The man told him his, name, rank and regiment. 

“Well sir,” said General Hardee, “just imagine this 
whole army with umbrellas.” 

The doctor shut up his umbrella and pitched it over 
into the field. 

General Hardee was always joking his men on the 
march, but when the fight was on no one did his part bet¬ 
ter than he. 

On October 6th we marched through Perryville, but 
on the 7th we marched back and camped in the main 
street of the town. 

Some of the boys stole a bee-hive and many of them 
got stung so. their faces were swollen and eyes closed. 
Dr. Arnold was one of the injured ones, but he did not fail 
to eat his honey. As we lay on the ground that night I 
teased him, saying General Hardee would need no further 
proof; that he carried his guilt in his face. The doctor 
did not relish this so I turned over to go to sleep when a 
bee stung me on the cheek. 

“Who's the guilty one now?” laughed the doctor and 
the joke was surely on me. But I knew where the medi¬ 
cine wagon was, and went and got some ammonia. I 
bathed my face, and the swelling went down at once, so I 
came out ahead after all. 

By daylight we were in line of battle and honey and 
bee-stings were forgotten. The Battle of Perryville was 
fought October 8th, 1862. We were on the extreme left 
and our battery, on a hill at our rear, was not engaged un¬ 
til late in the day. The heaviest fighting was on the ex¬ 
treme right. Both sides were contending stubbornly for 
a spring of water between the lines and were dying for 
water. Sometimes one side would have the advantage, 
sometimes the other. When called into action we crossed 



REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 


31 


a bridge in the center of the town, formed a line and ad¬ 
vanced to the top of the hill. Our battery was planted 
and had begun its work when we received orders to re¬ 
cross the bridge and occupy our former lines. We had to 
retreat under battery fire, and after we had got our bat¬ 
tery over the bridge we marched along the pike. The en¬ 
emy opened on us with grape and cannister and did dead¬ 
ly work- We double-quicked into line and their sharp¬ 
shooters gave us a terrible assault from behind the 
houses. But when our line was formed, our sharp-shoot¬ 
ers deployed and our battery opened fire, they had to re¬ 
treat- So the battle went on, but finally we had to give up 
the struggle and evacuate the town. The loss was heavy 
on both sides, about eight thousand men being killed, cap¬ 
tured and wounded. 

October 9th we marched fifteen miles and passed 
Harrodsburg. On the 10th we marched sixteen miles to 
Camp Dick Robinson. Here a council was held while Gen¬ 
eral Bragg gave hi§ wagons time to go South. It was the 
greatest wagon train ever seen in the army; was three 
days passing at one point. Here George Thomas and I 
each bought three yards of undyed jeans to make our¬ 
selves some trousers when we got back South. 

The defeat at Perryville and the failure of the Ken¬ 
tuckians to join us as we had hoped, made our campaign 
anything but a brilliant success from a military point of 
view, notwithstanding our victories at Mumfordsville and 
Richmond. 

But we had captured six thousand men, we had se¬ 
cured arms and ammunition which were sorely needed, we 
had gotten enormous quantities of supplies which were a 
great help to the Confederacy, and the men who did get 
back were tough as whit-leather, ready for anything. 

October 13th we marched twenty-three miles, pass¬ 
ing through Lancaster, October 14th we marched seven¬ 
teen miles, going through Mount Vernon, and halted a 
little before dark. 

Dr. Arnold and I went down to a creek about a mile 
from camp, and there in a field we found a fine pumpkin. 
He said if I would help him cook it I might help him eat it- 
He said it would have to cook until one o’clock to be well 



32 


REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 


done. I told him I would help take it to camp but I’d be 
dinged if I’d stay up until one o’clock to cook it. I was 
too nearly dead for rest and sleep. We got it to camp, cut 
it up, put it in the famous old army camp kettle and Doc 
began the Herculean task of staying awake to cook his 
pumpkin. He did stay awake until one o’clock and got it 
nicely done, but was afraid to eat it at that unusual hour, 
as he might have cramp colic. He found an old fashioned 
oven with a lid, put his pumpkin into it, fastened the lid, 
placed the oven under the knapsack beneath his head and 
went to sleep. But first he took the trouble to wake me 
and tell me I should not have a bite of his pumpkin be¬ 
cause I w'ould not stay up to help him cook it. 

When reveille sounded he woke up and began to guy 
me, saying “Ylou shall not have a bite.” He took up his 
knapsack and behold, the oven, pumpkin and all, was 
gone! Oh, he was furious, and fairly pawed the ground. 
He thought I had taken it for a joke, but soon found that 
to be a mistake. We decided that some soldier had stolen 
and eaten it. If he had found the man he would have 
fought him to a finish. He never did see the joke. 

October 19th we marched eleven miles- We passed 
over a battlefield, where General Buckner had fought, and 
crossed Wild Cat River. We marched thirteen miles and 
passed through Barkersville. This was a strong Union 
town in the mountains. The “Jay Hawkers” shot at us 
from the top of the mountains; women and boys pelted 
us with stones, shouting, “Hurrah, for the Union.” As 
they were women and chidlren, we had to take it. 

Once we were marching on a road cut out of the 
mountain side. On one side was a cliff of solid rock, on 
the other a deep precipice. The command to halt was giv¬ 
en and the men fell down to rest, completely filling the 
voad. Arnold and I were in the rear, and one of the am¬ 
bulance drivers, seeing the crowded condition of the road, 
told us to get up with him, which we did. There was a 
trail just wide enough for the horsemen, single file, and 
along this trail rode General Hardee looking after his 
men. When he reached this ambulance he stopned oppo¬ 
site Arnold and said to him, “Are you sick?” “No, sir.” 



REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 


33 


Well, get down off that wagon.” 

“Are you sick?” he called to me, but by that time 1 
was out on the ground. Then he said to the driver, “Let 
no soldier ride unless he is sick or wounded.” 

A Kentucky Colonel brought with him his five hun¬ 
dred dollar carriage, and had his negro drive it at the 
rear of the regiment. In his rounds General Hardee had 
found some sick men and told them to get into that car¬ 
riage. The negro and rear officers explained whose car¬ 
riage it was, but the General only said, “No use going 
empty when it can serve so good a purpose. By tomor¬ 
row perhaps none of us will need it-” 

So the umbrella man, Arnold and myself were not the 
only ones upon whom General Hardee kept an eye. 

October 19th we marched fourteen miles, crossed 
Cumberland River, then on through Gibralter, Cumber¬ 
land Gap, and on across Powell River into Tennessee. We 
marched past Taswell, crossed Clinch River at Madison- 
ville, and, on October 24th, camped about six miles from 
Knoxville. Here we were given time to wash and dry our 
clothes. On this raid we had only one suit and to get it 
clean meant to strip, wash, let the clothes dry on or hang 
them on bushes to dry, while we waited. With our bat¬ 
tles and forced marches we could not stop for that; so 
creeping companions were large and furious, and made 
deadly War. But at Knoxville everybody got busy, went 
into warfare with our creeping enemy, and the thousands 
destroyed in that fierce combat will never be known. 

George Thomas and I brought out our white jeans 
which we had bought in Camp Dick Robinson, and had 
carried all these miles. We got some copperas from a 
kind old rebel lady, took walnut hulls and dyed our cloth- 
It was a good job too. 

The boys were getting short on tobacco, and it looked 
as if the whole army would be forced to reform on this 
line. But they borrowed Dr. Ashford’s horse and sent me 
to buy tobacco, chewing tobacco, smoking tobacco, hand 
tobacco, giving me plenty of Confederate currency. 

I rode into the beautiful town which I had not seen 
since we were flying into Virginia- Then we wore good 





34 


REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 


clothes and had Sunday Soldiering. Now we were sol¬ 
diers with the dust of a thousand mile march, ragged and 
unkempt, bleeding from the wounds of two hard-fought 
battles and numerous skirmishes. Then we were raw, un¬ 
disciplined troops, now we were seasoned veterans. Such 
was the change in a few short months. 

Riding to a drug store, I hitched my horse, went in, 
and bought my wholesale bill of tobacco. When I came 
out again to the sidewalk I saw a policeman leading off 
my horse. I yelled at him to stop, but he went on, I rush¬ 
ed up and grabbed the reins. He told me it was against 
the law to hitch a horse to a post in that city. About that 
time twenty of our boys came running to my rescue. 
They lined up and told the policeman to turn the horse 
loose. He did the wise thing, or there would have been a 
“hot time” right there. I took the horse and 1 ade a bee¬ 
line for General Braggs’ Brigade, and took joy and de¬ 
light to my tobacco-starving friends. 

November 2nd we passed through Knoxville and 
camped on the railroad. At daylight the 154th Regiment 
Band awoke us with the sweetest music I ever heard- It 
brought back such poignant memories of home, of the 
boys and girls around the piano, of charming plantation 
melodies. 

But the next tune was not so sweet. It came to the 
tune of orders to “cook three days’ rations, and be ready 
to move at a moment’s notice.” We rode cars to Chatta¬ 
nooga, from there on November 10th we went to Bridge¬ 
port, Alabama. From Bridgeport we crossed the Tennes¬ 
see River, marched fifty miles and camped at Alisonia. 
November 24th we marched twenty miles, passing 
through Tullahoma; November 25th we marched fifteen 
miles and camped on Duck River at a short distance from 
Shelbyville. At this time the Medical department decid¬ 
ed to give all the one-course Medical students then in the 
army a chance to pass the examination for promotion to 
assistant surgeon. Dr.- Arnold was one of these one- 
course students and decided to try the examination. We 
diked him out in the best clothes we could get together in 
the company. I contributed my white shirt, other boys 




REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 


35 


brought him hat, coat, shoes, and collar. When he stood 
before us for inspection he could have passed for a lawyer 
or preacher just from town. With his book, ‘‘Smith’s 
Compends,” he walked twenty miles to the Board of Ex¬ 
aminers, stood before the “saw-bones,” shook and an¬ 
swered questions. Perhaps his borrowed plumage helped 
him, at any rate he passed, and was given a certificate- 
He walked back, changed from the rank of a private to 
that of a captain! When he came in sight two hundred 
braves met him; when shown his certificate they rode 
him on a rail and kept up a rough house for an hour or 
two. He had no horse, no money, and no books except his 
Smith’s Compends, but the older doctors helped him, and 
soon he was fully up in medical affairs and made a good 
surgeon too. 

December 8th we marched twenty miles and camped 
at Eaglesville. From there we marched to College Hill. 

December 28th we marched to Murphreesboro, and 
camped on Stone River within cannon shot of the town. 
Here we prepared to meet Rosecrans with his army, for¬ 
ty-five thousand in number. We were in line of battle on 
the extreme right. After dark on the thirtieth, still in 
line of battle, we moved our position to extreme left and 
camped, without fire, in a cedar rough. Our orders were 
to advance as soon as it was light enough to see. At 
dawn, December 31, we moved promptly on the enemy, 
advancing through an open field. The enemy, protected 
by a fence and the trees, received us with deadly fire and 
our loss was great. But we flew after them and our work 
was just as disastrous to them. Dead bluecoats were 
thick in every direction. We soon had them on the run. 

Our company Color Bearer William Mathews, the 
same who had defied the Yankee fleet on the Potomac, had 
been ill and this was his first fight. As we followed the 
fleeing Yanks he said, “Boys, this is fun.” One of the 
men answered, “Stripes, don’t be so quick, this is not over 
yet; you may get a ninety-day furlough yet.” In twen¬ 
ty minutes Mathews’ arm was shot to pieces. 

George Thomas was in front of all the company. He 
had killed two men and was pulling down on the third, 



36 


REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 


when one, but a short distance away, shot him, wounding 
him in the arm. But George spotted the man who shot 
him and wanted to go on with one good arm. However, 
he was taken off the field and sent to the hospital 

We drove the enemy three miles. The fire all along 
the line was terrific. The cannonading could be heard for 
miles. The rattle of small arms was continuous. Our 
line on the left was pressing on over a terrible cedar 
rough. Anyone who understands a cedar rough can un¬ 
derstand what that means. Limestone rocks, gnarly 
cedar trees, stub arms sticking out of the ground, make 
it amost impassable at best- How much more difficult 
with an enemy in front concentrating his fire upon 
us. We pressed on through rocks and thicket. One 
of our brave boys, Arthur Green, was struck by a 
cannonball and torn all to pieces. Other parts of the line 
were as hot as ours. We got possession of the thicket but 
could not get the cannon through it; so we hardly got a 
man of their line. 

When we got through, we found the Yanks with sixty 
cannon in line fronting the cedar rough- Our ranks were 
so depleted we could not charge two lines of infantry and 
sixty cannon. There was nothing to do but hold our po¬ 
sition and await re-inforcements. 

We lay in line all night. Orders were sent to the 
quarter-master to send rations, if he had any. Two ne¬ 
groes, belonging to two of the officers, arrived, bringing 
food for their masters. 

As all was quiet then, and it was raining, they decid¬ 
ed to sleep by the fire until daylight. To keep off the rain 
they drove forked branches into the ground, laid a brace 
across them, stretched their blankets over all, and pegged 
them to the ground at the four corners. Before long hard 
firing was heard on the outpost. Bullets rained on their 
tent, struck the logs of the fire, cut loose the corners of 
the blankets, letting the rain on their faces. When they 
saw the flying bullets, they awaited no instructions from 
their masters. With eyes popping out of their heads, 
they grabbed their blankets and set out for the wagon 



REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 


37 


train. They were not long in getting there. 

Next day the struggle was renewed with fearful car¬ 
nage. 

Each side fought with grim and settled purpose, final¬ 
ly a fierce onslaught scattered our forces. In twenty min¬ 
utes we lost two thousand men, and the day was lost. 
Orders for retreat were given. 

General Braggs’ loss was about ten thousand men, 
while Rosecrans reported his at twelve thousand. 

In the battle our Lieutenant Colonel Don McGregor 
was mortally Wounded: When he was taken to the hospit¬ 
al, his faithful old Samuel was by his side. The Colonel’s 
sister, who lived a few miles from Murfreesboro, had come 
to relieve the suffering and nurse the wounded. (Ah, 
those brave, never-to-be-forgotten daughters of the 
South!) When she drove up to the hospital in her car¬ 
riage she found Sam waiting with his own and his mas¬ 
ter’s horse saddled ready for the trip to her home. When 
we retreated General Rosecrans’ men came in, and his 
guard took the two horses, and drove off in the carriage. 
What could be done ? Samuel said, “I will get them back.” 

At this particular time of the unpleasantness, the 
Yankees were burning with sympathy for the poor, op¬ 
pressed negro, and negroes were permitted to do pretty 
much as they pleased. Samuel went to Rosecrans’ head¬ 
quarters, told him the horses were his, that he had a 
wounded friend in the hospital and he wanted a pass to 
the country. All his requests were granted. He drove 
the Colonel and his sister to her home, and nursed his 
master until he died. 

After Colonel McGregor died Samuel got a pass 
through the lines and returned to our camp. He deliv¬ 
ered the Colonel’s horse but kept his own and asked our 
Regiment Colonel for a pass to Arkansas. He then told 
the boys to write to their fathers, mothers and sweet¬ 
hearts, as he was going back home to see his mistress. 
We received answers to these letters, showing that Sam¬ 
uel had made the journey safely, faithful to the end. 

We retreated by night. We were nearly starved. It 
was raining, cold, cold rain, and we were wet to the skin. 
We were so sleepy that if we stopped for a moment we 



38 


REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 


would go to sleep. We had gone almost as far as human 
nature could go. 

One of the boys thought he would rest a few moments 
beside a fire left by some wagons- He took pine boughs 
and laid them on the wet ground, dropped down with all 
his accoutrements, and went to sleep. General Hardee 
came up, spied him, called to his Adjutant, “Roy, come 
here; here is a fellow who has gone regularly to bed.” 

About then the soldier woke up very much frighten¬ 
ed. He thought he would be shot. He got away from 
f here in a hurry, and was with his command before his 
absence was discovered. 

January 5th, 1863, we marched forty-two miles to 
Manchester. January 6th we marched eighteen miles to 
Alisonia. From Alisonia we marched to Tullahoma, and 
there we camped for the winter. 

We were in General Hardee's Division. We had tents 
and were comfortable. We drilled four hours a day, and 
by way of diversion General Hardee had contests in drill¬ 
ing. We become so expert that we could have made the 
Virginia Cadets ashamed of themselves. Our company 
was third best and that took good practice. A Louisiana 
company was ahead of us. It beat us in quickness at 
“trail arms”, “lie down”, at “double quick.” At walking 
or running none excelled us at any army maneuver. We 
had other amusements, too. We played “town ball” and 
“bull pen” and had some lively games. We dressed up 
the smaller fellows as girls and we danced. Joe Hamilton, 
Dick Hayden, Sam Shoup and Bill Barnes were the musi¬ 
cians. Bill Shackleford was ready to play pranks, and 
made fun for the crowd. Now and then we got a pass and 
sent our best foragers out for “fancy grub” and vegeta¬ 
bles. Then we would have a big dinner and a big day. 

April 23rd, real fun began again, but we were alive, 
active, young, healthy, well-drilled, well disciplined— in 
perfect fighting trim. For fear we would forget how to 
march a walking track was opened up from Tullahoma, 
and we marched daily five, ten, eighteen, twenty, thirty 
miles, making expeditions to all the surrounding towns— 
Wartrace, Bellbuckle, Hoover's Gap, Duck River, Bridge, 



REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 


39 


Railroad Gap, Manchester. Manchester was a nice little 
town in the hills, where there were numerous springs and 
streams in which we could swim- June 22nd we went 
there to relieve a Lousiana Regiment. When we arrived 
they were on dress parade, eleven hundred strong and 
their drill was simply fine, but they had never smelt pow¬ 
der nor marched at all. They wore nice caps, fine uni¬ 
forms, white gloves, fine shop-made laced high shoes. 
They carried fat haversacks and new canteens, fine new 
fat knapsacks with lots of underclothing and even two 
pairs of shoes. They laughed at us in our shabby dress, 
with our dirty haversacks and no knapsacks. We had one 
suit of underwear wrapped in our blankets and our accou¬ 
trements were reduced to the lightest weight possible. 
They said we were too few to meet the enemy, but we 
told them we would stay with any who came to engage us. 
We also told them that they couldn’t get through one 
week’s campaign with such knapsacks. Some of the boys 
said, “We will follow in your wake and replenish our 
wardrobes.” 

This was a sad camp to us. One of our men, Garret, 
got angry with Mr. Bragden, the Beef Sergeant, who di¬ 
vided the company rations- Taking his gun, he went to 
Bragden’s tent where he was unarmed and shot him like 
a dog- Garrett would have been lynched if the officers 
had not hurried him off to another part of the army. 

June 27th we marched to Wartrace, June 29th to Tul- 
lahoma, June 30th we were deployed to build breastworks, 
but we retreated at eleven o’clock at night to Alisonia on 
Elk River. 

July third, we camped in the Cumberland Mountains, 
near the school which had been established by General 
Polk and the Quintards. It was an ideal place for a school 
and I am glad to say it bears, today, an honored name 
among educators as the University of the South. 

We had marched all day in the hot July sun, clouds of 
dust had parched, our throats, and we were almost perish¬ 
ing for water when we reached the spring. As we rested 
at the side of the road whom should we see but our crack 
Louisiana Regiment—the one we had relieved at Manches¬ 
ter only ten days before. They were dusty, dirty, lame 



40 


REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 


and halt, with feet sore and swollen in their tight shoes, 
a bedraggled and woe begone set of youngsters. How we 
joshed them. 

“Don’t cry, mama’s darling;” Straighten up and be 
men;” “Brace up like soldiers, so the army won’t be a- 
shamed of you.” These were some of the commands we 
hurled at them. They would have fought us if they could 
have stopped, but a soldier cannot break ranks. 

July 4th, 1863, we camped in the valley on the Ten¬ 
nessee River. Then we crossed the River at Kelly Ford to 
Lookout Valley. July 9th we marched through Chattan¬ 
ooga and camped at Turner’s Station. 

August 17th we marched to Graysville. Here Dr. T. 
R. Ashford got a four days’ furlough. Dr. Ashford had 
married in Georgia and had gone with his bride to Ark¬ 
ansas and established himself as a physician. When the 
war broke out he joined the army from his adopted home, 
going out as assistant surgeon in our regiment. His wife 
returned to her mother in Georgia and he had not seen 
her for two years. As Graysville was near her home, she 
came to visit him and there they had a happy meeting. 

Dr- Ashford, always kind and sympathetic, was a 
great favorite with the boys. Highly educated and a fine 
surgeon, he was modest and unassuming, a sincere Chris¬ 
tian gentleman. After the war he settled in Georgia. Dr. 
Ashford, Dr. Arnold and I were close friends through 
those long dreadful years. 

August 21st we camped at Harrison on the Tennessee 
River. On August 23rd we marched fourteen miles and 
camped at Gardner’s Ferry. 

Here several of the boys went foraging and got some 
nice green apples. George Thomas, Captain Shoup and 
others made apple dumplings and -put them in a large 
camp kettle to cook. 

They were standing around the fire, with mouths wa¬ 
tering, thinking every minute an hour, when the Yankees 
on the other side of the river began to shell the camp. 
They had run up four globe—sighting 16 shotguns to the 
top of a small hill. We were too far from our guns and 



REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 


41 


there were no orders given to shoot, so they shelled us a 
plenty. 

While the boys were watching the kettle a cannon ball 
struck the fire, upset the kettle, passed between the legs 
of one of the men and exploded a little farther on. This 
did not seem to cause any alarm. They had heard can¬ 
non balls explode before, but a mighty wail went up over 
the loss of ; the apple dumplings. The air was blue around 
there, and at that particular moment the boys would have 
charged the enemy joyously. 

I was with the doctors that day. They had a negro 
who was a fine forager. He even brought us fried chick¬ 
en. We had a royal spread in front of the doctors’ tent 
and were consuming the good things with great relish, 
when a cannon ball went through the tent! It looked like 
it was going to smash us to smithereens, grub and all! 
We got away from there. We grabbed the grub and, went 
down the line where we finished our meal. Not royally 
as we would have done, but hastily and stealthily. 

But our sharp shooters in the dumps on the river got 
even with them- The Yanks drove out into the field with 
two six-mule wagons to get some fine rebel fodder.. There 
were about thirty men in alb teamsters and guards. Some 
of them stood on the rail pen surrounding the fodder, oth¬ 
ers climbed on the shock to begin at the top. Our sharp¬ 
shooters shot the mules first, then the men, and few lived 
to tell the tale. Sherman said, “War is Hell.” In this 
case it was hell to them. 

September 10th we marched down the valley toward 
Lafayette. As the dust was a foot deep and water scarce 
we moved slowly and we went into camp about ten o’clock. 

Dr. Scott of our Division, was sent for to see a citi¬ 
zen who was very ill. He went and relieved him, and left 
medicine, not asking pay for his services. After he had 
returned to camp a negro^ brought him a huge tray heap¬ 
ed with good things to eat- The doctor looked at the pile 
of grub, and said, “You boys must dine with me today, I 
can’t eat all of this.” We needed no further urging for 
our blue beef and water corn-dodger was rather poor fare. 
We lit into it, and as hungry wolves devour a sheep, so 





42 


REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 


we devoured that pile of grub. Then the darkey took his 
tray and departed with a note of thanks. Our gratitude 
was truly sincere. 

September 19th battle was on hand. We were in 
General Polk’s Brigade, to which the Hardee Corps had 
been transferred. When orders were read we found our¬ 
selves named as reserves. Cannonading began on our 
right, and we were moved quickly to the sound of the 
shot, about three miles. As we drew nearer to it we were 
ordered to double-quick. When we came to Chickamauga 
Creek we began to pull off our shoes to wade when Gen¬ 
eral Clebourne came along saying, “Boys, go through that 
river, we can’t wait.” 

Through the creek we went, and were among the first 
to be engaged instead of being reserves. When our line 
was deployed and ordered forward we were the very first. 
We struck stubborn western troops who knew how to 
fight- The conflict was terrific and raged all day. When 
night fell the engagement was stopped. Throwing out 
skirmishers we found that the lines were mixed up terri¬ 
bly. We were among the Yankees and they were calling, 
“What command is this?” It was midnight before the 
lines were reformed. Then we had a night’s sleep on the 
ground, knowing that on the morrow some of us would 
fall in defense of our country—some of us would never 
see home and mother again. General Longstreet arrived 
in the night with re-inforcements, bringing a division 
from Virginia. At daybreak the struggle was renewed. 
On both sides was the determination, “God being our 
helper, we will win this day.” Wave after wave of deadly 
lead was sent against those Western troops, who contest¬ 
ed every inch of the ground, who would stand a charge, 
and stay on the field. But our blood was hot, we fought 
for home, and against an invading foe and we could not 
give up at all. At the end of two days a battle of battles 
had been fought and won for the Confederate cause. But 
alas, how many Southern boys had bitten the dust. The 
field was so thickly strewn with dead we could scarcely 
walk over it without stepping on the corpses. Our Regi¬ 
ment lost 42 killed and 103 wounded, and of the 120,000 




REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 


43 


men engaged on both sides, 28,000 were killed and 
wounded. 

Longstreet’s men said to us, “Boys, you have tougher 
men to fight than we.” 

If we had followed up our victory and had Forrest cut 
off the enemy’s supplies what a difference it would have 
made. We might have stretched our lines to the Ken¬ 
tucky border. Such are the mistakes of war. 

At this battle one of the boys captured two horses 
and gave them to Dr. Arnold. He said he would draw 
feed for them and on the march I could ride one of them. 
I named my horse “General Thomas” but before we left 
our first camp the assistant surgeons could draw feed on¬ 
ly for one horse so I was afoot as I had been for two years. 

We established a line of breastworks on Missionary 
Ridge and held Lookout Mountain, a mountain over a 
mile in height, and, as we thought, commanded Chatta¬ 
nooga. 

The Yankees saw that something must be done or 
things would be booming in Dixie. They brought to the 
front Dutch, Irish, Hottentots and all kinds of troops, and 
by the last of October the Sequatchie (?) (Wauhatchie?) 
Valiev was swarming like a beehive. 

Once a Dutch corp of 15,000 went down the valley 
through a gap to reach our rear. Bragg sent to meet 
them about 15,000 troops, placing them arrowed in front. 
He had a line under General Hindeman with orders, at a 
certain signal, to rush across, cutting them off entirely 
from the main army. The signal was never given and we 
do not know why to this day. At that signal we were to 
follow across the valley at double-quick but Mr. Dutch 
discovered he was in a trap and he marched out again. 

There was a Union man living on the route of this 
Dutch Devil, who had not joined either army. He had 
lived on his farm unmolested by the Southern troops, and 
supposed that of couse he would be protected by the 
Northern troops. As the Dutch marched down to attack 
us they stopped at this man’s home, searched the place, 
insulted his wife and knocked him down. As they came 
running back they had no time to tarry, but one at a 
time, a straggler, would drop into his smokehouse to see 



44 


REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 


if there was one ham left. The Union man took a long, 
keen bowie-knife and stood in the dark corner of the 
smokehouse; when only one man entered he stabbed him 
to the heart and put his body into the well. He killed 
three men. Next morning, he with his wife and children, 
walked into our camp. He said he was ready to fight to 
the bitter end. He took his family South and came back 
and made a bad soldier for them. 

November 23, 24 and 25 we fought the “Battle Above 
the Clouds/’ the terrible conflict of Lookout Mountain and 
Missionary Ridge. We were fighting continuously during 
those three days. We were in breastworks on the ridge 
near Lookout Mountain, but when the fighting was fierc¬ 
est we were sent to relieve the commands at the extreme 
right of the Yankee army. They came in solid front five 
columns deep and charged our breastworks but were driv¬ 
en back hour after hour with terrible slaughter. Late in 
the afternoon they made a concentrated attack on our 
center and drove our men out of line. We had to give up 
Lookout Mountain and we retreated to the Ridge about 
midnight. Throughout the night Sherman’s troops were 
coming up, and next day we were attacked in front and 
flank. Our breastworks were of no use as Lookout 
Mountain commanded the Ridge, so in spite of desperate 
struggles we were ordered to retreat. 

At Chattanooga it had been agreed that there should 
be no firing on the line of pickets without notification. 
Here between the picket line and the main line of battle 
our sporting boys sought “sheckle luck,” those who were 
fortunate enough to have a few sheckles of Confederate 
money. One day when General Hardee was officer of the 
day he ordered a regiment deployed around the gamblers, 
but soldiers from all parts of the field yelled to the boys 
to run, and run they did. General Hardee did not get 
many. 

In our company was a Kentucky lad named Barnett 
who had a brother in the Union Army. They got permis¬ 
sion to spend the day together. When the day was over 
they separated, each going back to his command. That 



REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 


45 


was a war! Brother against brother, father against son, 
arrayed in deadly combat. 

We went to Dalton, marching all night. As we cross¬ 
ed the river it seemed the coldest night our thinly clad 
men had ever experienced. Our corp under Hardee was 
the rear guard. General Clebourne’s Division was imme¬ 
diately in the rear. General Polk was our Brigadier Gen¬ 
eral. About two o’clock we passed General Cleburne, 
mountain, looking and thinking. 

“Something is going to happen” I said to the boys. 

“Why ” 

Look at General Cleburne, don’t you see war in his 
eyes?” 

We had crossed Ringold Mountain, but we were sent 
back to take the horses from the cannon, put men in their 
places, and pulled it quickly to the top of the mountain, 
so to the summit over rocks and between trees two pieces 
were carried. Our regiment was sent to the top with 
them. Two minutes more would have been too late. Not 
fifty yards away on the other side of the hill were Yan¬ 
kees climbing for the same goal. Then the firing began. 
We had the advantage in having a tree to use as breast¬ 
works, and in being able to see them. Whenever one 
stepped aside from his tree to shoot our men got him. 
Captain Shoup and John Baird rolled rocks down the hill 
and when a Yankee dodged the other boys shot him. We 
picked off dozens. When the cannon was got ready and 
began shelling the woods, breaking the trees, tearing up 
rocks and showering them on the lines below, they had to 
break and retreat in haste down the hill. 

If we had not got there as soon as we did our line 
would have been the one to retreat. 

General Cleburne took us next to Ringold Gap, a gap 
dug by the railroad through the mountain. He made a 
talk to the boys, telling us that we were there to save the 
army, which was five miles away and could not possibly 
get help to us. Our task would require nerve and will of 
which he knew we had plenty. We were to form two 
lines of battle across the gap and were not to fire until he 
gave the signal, (by signs, as commands would not be 



46 


REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 


heard in the roar of guns.) 

The Yankees having failed to break our line on the 
mountain had massed their forces at the gap, determined 
to break Cleburne’s line, when the rest would be easy for 
them. 

They came on seven columns deep to our two. We 
watched them advance and seconds seemed hours. We 
felt they would be on us before Cleburne ever gave the 
signal. Would he never give it? At last when the time 
was ripe, he, who knew the art of war so well, gave the 
signal to fire, and such deadly work did we perform as was 
not surpassed in the whole four years of war. We let 
loose on them four pieces of cannon. The command to 
stop firing was not given until the number of dead in our 
front was greater than our Brigade. This fight showed 
strategy and bravery. It checked the advance of an army 
five times greater than our Division, and it proved to Gen¬ 
eral Hardee that he had one man who could plan and exe¬ 
cute a battle with any adversary. Ever after, Cleburne 
with his Arkansas, Tennessee and Texas men was placed 
in the hottest part of battle. Our loss was 88 killed, 23 
wounded, and their loss was reported in Northern papers 
as 2,000 killed, wounded and captured. 

We went into winter quarters at Dalton, our regiment 
being in front of the general army. We camped near 
Tennel Hill. We had good foraging ground and could get 
chickens, eggs, butter, so we lived high. John Loftin was 
captain of the foragers and he was a good one too. He 
only got caught once but he lied out of that. Two ne¬ 
groes, who belonged to two doctors of our Brigade, went 
to Dalton one night to see the sights and buy half-moon 
pies, big sorghum ginger-bread, and other things. Com¬ 
ing home at midnight they were crossing a railroad tres¬ 
tle when two robbers called on them to halt. Sam began 
to parley with them when whack! they hit him over the 
head, and told him to give up his money. He yielded up 
his shin-plasters, all he had- They then took Tom’s can. 
He did not have much so they told him to pull. He was a 
good runner especially when scared, and he lit out over 
rocks and brush, beating his partner to camp. With eyes 
as big as saucers he related his exploits to his master. 





REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 


47 


They did not visit Dalton at night again. We used to go 
over there to see the girls and have parties and sorghum 
“candy pulls.” It was a great diversion, and between the 
lines, when the guards were on to it they would arrest, 
but the boys could usually outgeneral them. 

From this camp I was sent on a three days’ furlough 
to Augusta to buy some drug supplies not to be found in 
Atlanta. When I reached Atlanta whom should I meet 
but George Roberts, one of my old mess-mates who had 
been transferred to Morgan’s Cavalry. Morgan had been 
captured, and all that was left of the command was at Ma¬ 
con re-organizing. George was buying horses. He was 
flush and wanted me to, take a thousand dollars, but I had 
lots of money, at least for these days. He went to the de¬ 
pot to see me off. Robert was a fine fellow- He was a 
regular city rat- We country boys used to get him to 
pilot us around the city. He would know all the streets 
in a day and could take us anywhere we wanted to go. 
After the war he settled in Texas, where he was cash¬ 
ier of a bank. He died several years ago. 

In Augusta I met Colonel Snyder of the Eighth 
Arkansas. He was from Pocahontas, Ark., and was 
then on a furlough. I also met Ed M. Dickinson, Thad 
Kinman and Ben Adler. They belonged to the quarter¬ 
master’s department under Captain Bridewell and Ma¬ 
jor Moon. They kept books as big as a dining table. 
As they belonged to this particular department they 
helped me to draw a new jacket suit. They lived in a 
fine city and fared sumptuously, so knowing all the 
ropes they made it mighty pleasant for me- Through 
Ed I met an uncle whom I had not seen before. It was 
on a crowded street in the city, but I knew him at once 
from his resemblance to my father. When I accosted 
him he was very dignified and seemed to doubt me un¬ 
til I told him the names of the whole family. Then he 
insisted upon me going to his home. He had an inter¬ 
esting family. My grandmother died at his home and 
was buried in a cemetery in Augusta. I got back to 
camp on time. After living off the fat of the land our 
regular diet of blue beef and corn bread somehow failed 



48 


REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 


to tickle the palate. George Thomas, who had been 
wounded at Murfreesboro, got back to us at this camp. 

We were waiting to move on the checkerboard. 
Jeff Davis, General Bragg, Johnston and all were call¬ 
ing for the troops to have a decisive battle hereabouts, 
but there was a difference of opinion between Davis 
and the commanding generals. Our Brigade was order¬ 
ed, I suppose to Mississippi- We went by rail to Mont¬ 
gomery, were halted there, and were sent back to Dal¬ 
ton and went into camp again. 

May 8th, 1864 we began the famous Dalton cam¬ 
paign, under the leadership of the superb General Jos¬ 
eph E. Johnston. He had between forty and fifty 
thousand men divided into three corps, commanded re¬ 
spectively by Generals Hardee, Hood and Polk. He was 
opposed by Sherman with about 100,000 well drilled seas¬ 
oned soldiers by Generals Thomas, McPherson and 
Schofield, but Johnston was equal to the campaign. 

May Sth we were menaced by the enemy in front and 
flank. May 9ch we moved our position two miles to the 
left and on May 10th we moved rapidly back to the top of 
the mountain. We had no tents nor protection of any 
kind. We slept on the ground among the rocks. Al¬ 
though it rained in torrents, we were so dead tired from 
our 33 mile march, we did not know it was raining until 
we were wet through. At daybreak we were again on the 
march and went to Snake Creek Gap, then three miles to 
the left and built breastworks. From there we marched 
to Resaca. May 15th we had heavy fighting and were 
forced from our position. The retreat was covered by 
Hardee’s corps. Our engineers had to build, under fire, a 
bridge for the army to cross the Oostenaula. In fact from 
Dalton to Atlanta we had a continuous battle. We moved 
back slowly, and only when flanked and outnumbered. 
When we adopted a new line a few miles back, we built 
breastworks. Thus marching, battling, building works, 
in rain and mud, with no camp, no tents and but little 
food, the campaign went on. But in all our skirmishes 
and engagements we used every advantage to their great 
loss. We fell back to Calhoun, then to Adairsville. We 
were the rear guard on that road. After we had crossed 



REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 


49 


a creek and marched to the top of the hill, (our Cavalry 
to the rear), the Yankees moved opposite and opened up a 
battery. We were ordered to lie down and not to fire un¬ 
til told to do so. General Polk and General Jackson rode 
in front of us and the sharp-shooters and artillery of the 
enemy made it hot for them, bullets going through their 
hats and clothes. General Jackson would dodge, but Gen¬ 
eral Polk would sit as straight as an arrow and never 
move a muscle- I heard him when he told General Cle¬ 
burne and asked permission to advance on the enemy. 
When the courier returned General Cleburne himself 
came to see the fun. From our hill could be seen fifty 
thousand Yankee troops—Infantry, Cavalry and Artillery. 
For our Brigade to advance against such a force was a 
visionary idea, and the permission was not given. 

We moved on to join our main army which was a few 
miles in front drawn up in line of battle near Cassville. 
Our line was in open field, five miles long. Each man had 
forty cartridges and knew how to use them. General 
Johnston rode along the line and told the men he was go¬ 
me: to give battle. The soldiers threw their caps into the 
air and shouted themselves hoarse with joy at the 
thought of going into a fight which they felt in their 
souls would be successful. It was inspiring to see such 
enthusiasm in battle scarred veterans who knew what 
fighting meant. It was not theory with them, it was 
knowledge gained in bloody experience. I was glad I was 
on that field and saw that flashing of Southern bravery. 
Such patriots are born only of liberty-loving people, born 
of God. That confidence of success, that confidence in 
their leader was what Joseph E. Johnston had looked for, 
had prayed for. He knew his position to be the best he 
had ever had. He now knew the temper of his men. No¬ 
thing could have checked them. It would be the biggest 
battle of the war and his success. 

When this great battle was formed in Johnston’s 
brain and the Generals ordered to occupy the ground as¬ 
signed them, who was the first to say he could not hold 
his position? Who, but General Hood! Histories love to 
state that these generals led their men, but here was a 
time when the general did not lead into battle the brav- 



50 


REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 



LYMAN B. GILL 






REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 


51 


est men in the world who were clamoring for the fight. 

General Polk also expressed his disapproval of the 
movement. When his two generals went back on him, 
Johnston was paralyzed and could not or did not attempt 
to carry out his plan. Unlike Albert Sydney Johnson at 
Shiloh, who, when his plan was disapproved of, and ob¬ 
stacles thrown in his way, arose like the giant hero he 
was and said “You who are true, go to your commands. 
The battle will begin at daybreak.” If he had lived a few 
hours longer he would have won that battle beyond a 
doubt. 

If Joseph E. Johnston had said something like this 
the men would have done the rest, but when he ordered 
the line under the skirmish fire to retreat they obeyed 
like true soldiers. It was a bitter disappointment, but 
their trust in the great commander was firm. He hoped 
that other opportunities would offer but when the 
time came he was relieved and the command given to that 
General who had thwarted the greatest battle of the Con¬ 
federacy. 

Johnston’s pian of campaign was the only one possi¬ 
ble for us, fighting against such odds. I am not a general, 
nor the son of a general, but having been right on the 
ground for four years, feel that I am entitled to an opin¬ 
ion. And so with all the men who composed Company G, 
First Arkansas Regiment, Hardee Corps, Govan Brigade, 
Cleburne Division. The verdict of these men who helped 
make history is that if Johnston n . actics nad prevailed 
the Confederacy would have had a different tale to tell at 
Atlanta. 

Tacticians now agree that Johnston’s success in pre¬ 
serving his army almost entire was an achievement of the 
greatest military science. 

May 19th we left Gassville. We marched mostly by 
night, built breastworks, and by daybreak were ready for 
the contest. On May 26th the heaviest assault on our 
works took place. On our skirmish line, a short distance 
in front of our works we had dump holes dug in the 
ground, the dirt thrown out facing the enemy. Thirty 
men stayed in the dumps until the mjain line came up. 
Then they opened fire and checked the advance. When 



52 


REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 


they could no longer do this, they ran back to the line be¬ 
hind the, breastworks. 

At New Hope Church the enemy made a seven line 
concentrated assault on our line. Our men were cool and 
steady, and all were splendid shots. We waited until they 
were very near, then sent forth a sheet of fire and lead 
that could not be withstood. The number of their dead 
was enormous, and our own loss was considerable. We 
lost our first lieutenant, Alley Walthall, here. He was a 
distant relative of General Walthall, and as brave a man 
as ever lived on earth. 

A lieutenant of another company was killed also. He 
was in one of the dumps with one of the sixteen rifles. 
He had seen four Yankees fall under his well-directed fire, 
but at last was mortally wounded. He backed out of the 
dump and into a hollow where the enemy could see him 
fall. His comrades went out and brought him behind the 
breastworks. As he lay on the ground he conversed with 
his friends urging them to become Christians. Sending 
for the Colonel, he told him that he (the colonel) was a 
wicked man, and must lead a better life. By way of com¬ 
fort one of the boys told him how many Yankees he had 
killed in the assault. The lieutenant said, “Yes, I killed 
three. But, my brother, don’t gloat over it. Do your 
duty, but don’t gloat over it.” After sending many loving 
messages home he passed away. 

Meanwhile Sherman was receiving re-inforcements, 
and on June 9th moved against our intrenchments along 
Lost Mountains. In this region there was fighting for 
several days in the midst of almost incessant rain. Gen¬ 
eral Polk was killed during this engagement- June 15-17 
we abandoned both mountains and fell back to the great 
Kenesaw Overlooking Marietta. 

June 20th two of us got a permit to go to Marietta for 
tobacco and other supplies. As we were passing through 
the residence part of the city a kind-hearted lady invited 
us into the house to eat raspberries with her family. We 
did not have the heart to refuse her hospitality, so we 
went in. We had raspberries, cream and cake. Think of 
it, rebel soldiers regaled with such delicacies! When we 



REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 


53 


got back to camp we told the boys about it and they said 
we lied! But the memory of that kind act to strangers 
and common privates will last as long as life itself. 

On the 27th after a furious cannonading for hours by 
the enemy he made a general advance in heavy columns. 
Their assault in seven lines deep was vigorous and per¬ 
sistent on Cheatham’s and Cleburne’s Divisions of Har¬ 
dee’s Corps, the Confederates being covered by strong 
rifle pits which could not be carried by front attack, cooly 
and rapidly pouring a murderous fire into the massed 
Federals, causing losses entirely out of proportion to 
those inflicted upon the Confederates. The loss of the 
enemy in front of Cleburne’s Division was one thousand 
deaths. After the repulse of the second desperate as¬ 
sault the dry leaves and undergrowth in the forest be¬ 
fore* Cleburne’s Division were set on lire by tne snells and 
gun wadding, and began burning rapidly around the Fed¬ 
eral wounded and dead, exposing them to a horrible 
death. This danger was observed by the Confederates 
who were ordered instantly to cease firing and Lieutenant 
Colonel Martin, First Arkansas Regiment of Cleburne’s 
Division, called to the Federals that as an act of human¬ 
ity his men would suspend further battle until the assail¬ 
ants could carry off their dead and wounded who were 
liable to be burned alive. This offer was accepted by the 
Federals and in this work of mercy the Federals were 
joined by the Confederates who leaped their head logs 
and helped to carry off their dead and wounded. This oc¬ 
currence is perhaps unparalelled in the annals of war. 
In this great struggle the Federal army numbered about 
or over one hundred thousand and Confederates number¬ 
ed fifty thousand and in this Kennesaw battle our loss was 
eight hundred and eight the Federal loss about five thous¬ 
and- 


July 4th was celebrated by skirmishing all day. Sher¬ 
man hoped to catch us and administer a fatal blow before 
we could cross the Chattahootchee, but we threw up 
strong intrenchments so quickly, and guarded the rear so 



54 


REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 


skillfully that the army was all across the river July 5th 
without having been molested. 

But speaking of the Fourth of July. At this time 
Colonel Fellows, who had been with our command on our 
first trip to Richmond, was in prison at Johnson’s Island 
together with about three thousand other officers. The 
rebels gained permission for Colonel Fellows to speak on 
the stand used by the guards as a watch tower. As he 
poured forth his thoughts, turning the Fourth of July to 
the glory of the South even the Yankee guards, who had 
stopped to listen were spellbound by his eloquence. He 
had it all his own way and the rebels were shouting like 
mad. The officer of the day finally awoke to the situa¬ 
tion, took a file of soldiers, and brought the speech to a 
close. At another time in the same prison Lincoln’s Pro¬ 
clamation was read, offering pardon and freedom to all 
rebel prisoners who would take the oath of allegiance. 
The officers lined up in the barracks and announced that 
any man who wished to take the oath might step over to 
this line, give his name and be free. When Colonel Fel¬ 
lows was called he made a five minute talk in which he 
declared death was preferable. One of our boys, Shannon 
Logan of Co. G, First Arkansas Regiment, eighteen years 
old, was captured. He was a relative of General Logan 
and when his name appeared General Logan’s family 
drove down to the prison with the papers necessary for 
his release. They asked to see him and were shown a 
dirty, greasy, lousy private. Through the grime they 
recognized a fine boy with a noble face. They took him 
home, bathed him, clothed him, fed him, then told him 
to be their boy thenceforth. If this lonely boy, away 
from home, away from comrades had taken the oath he 
would have been free, with loving kinsmen, with luxury 
and riches, but he said “No, no! I will die first.” So for 
him it was back to the filthy prison among the vermin 
and the rats. 

This, one of the many instances of the loyalty dis¬ 
played by the rank and file, should be told to coming gen- 



REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 


55 



LON STEADMAN 

Now living at Paragould, Ark., 

whnrw i ho -wiiu chord!: for ton . 






56 


REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 


erations that they may know how the Southern private 
never faltered, but was true to the core. 

July 12th we crossed the Chattahootchee near Atlan¬ 
ta. July 18th we marched four miles and built breast¬ 
works. July 20th there was hard fighting at Peach Tree 
Creek in which we lost heavily. Our noble Captain Shoup 
was wounded and the command devolved upon Second 
Lieutenant Clay Lowe- He and John R. Loftin were the 
only commissioned officers we had left. 

July 22 we marched ten miles to the right of Atlanta. 
Hardee had attacked the enemy in the rear and there had 
been a territble struggle which lasted for hours. Toward 
evening we heard the Yankee Bands playing and the sol¬ 
diers shooting and cheering and we knew they had won. 

While Johnston was in command he had preserved his 
army, and inflicted upon the enemy a loss almost 
equal to our strength when we began the campaign. Our 
loss had been about nine thousand, which had been filled 
by the return of the wounded and furloughed men, so that 
General Hood received an army fully as strong as it was at 
Dalton. We were as ready to fight as ever although cer¬ 
tainly disappointed at the loss of Johnston. We felt that 
no other general could do what he had done. 

Soon after the war ended Johnston was going from 
Memphis to St. Louis. General Sherman and his staff 
were on their way to New Orleans- When Sherman learn¬ 
ed that his former adversary was on board a certain boat 
he took passage for St. Louis on the same vessel. After 
supper he asked Johnston if he had any objection to going 
over with him the retreat from Dalton. Johnston said 
he had not. So Sherman spread his maps on the cabin 
table and, surrounded by a throng of listeners, they be¬ 
gan. Sherman would ask about his line at a certain place, 
and Johnston would explain how his move was made. 
Sherman would point to his map and say: “How in the 
world did you get away from me here ?” They talked all 
night. Johnston needed no map. He had been in the very 
thick of battle for seventy-four days; the map of cam- 




REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 


57 


paign was burned into his brain, and he knew every foot 
of the ground. His retreat was a wonder to Sherrrfan and 
to the world. Yet this great military genius was thrown 
out on the eve of his final and greatest assault upon Sher¬ 
man. An assault which would have saved Atlanta to the 
Confederacy. Hood and Davis tactics prevailed after that 
and the splendid, unconquered army was swept off the 
earth into the grave. 

Hood questioned the morale of his army, but as for 
that, our poor little Company G went into line under Hood 
as true as it ever had under Johnston. We fought for the 
cause, not the general. Jim Hensley, a boy who had been 
wounded severely, returned to the company. His physi¬ 
cian had not reported him for duty, but had given him 
merely a pass to his command. I was in the field hospital 
when the order to forward was given. Hensley came to 
me saying: “Here, my dear old friend, is a little silver 
watch I wish to give you, for I shall be killed today/' 

I told him he had not been reported for duty; that he 
was still far from well, and begged him not to go into bat¬ 
tle, especially as he had a presentiment that he should be 
killed. He turned his soulful eyes upon me. “Will, do you 
think I am afraid because I know I am going to be kill¬ 
ed?" Putting his hand on his breast he continued, “I 
have no fear of death- I am a Christian, and I know I 
shall be safe in heaven." With tears we parted. He join¬ 
ed his brave comrades, Jim Murphy, John Baird and 
George Thomas on the left of Company G, after the line 
was in motion. They were moving against strong en¬ 
trenchments heavily defended by abatis. These four boys 
saw they could crawl under the abatis without being seen 
and get close to the breastworks. After they started, the 
command was given to oblique to the left, but in the roar 
of the musketry the boys failed to hear it and went on 
alone. There were about a hundred Yankees on the breast¬ 
works watching our line which was advancing upon their 
rear. The four boys crawled close in, prepared, and open¬ 
ed up. At the first fire down came four Yankees. They 
were taken by surprise, not knowing there were any men 
at their front. The boys kept at their game until the 




58 REMINSCENCES OF A PRIVATE 


Yankees ran. Then went forward to take possession of 
the works. Then they found themselves alone and two 
hundred of the enemy entrenched behind a second line! 
It was death anyway, so they ran forward firing on the 
troops with terrible accuracy. One man had a bead on 
Thomas when Murphy shot the fellow. One hinged for 
Murphy when Thomas bayoneted him. So they had it— 
hand to hand. Poor Hensley was killed, Murphy terribly 
wounded, Baird wounded, but Thomas would not surren¬ 
der. He bayoneted them until they took his gun, then he 
kicked and bit until they finally killed him there. Four 
men had killed twenty-five Yankees, but only one of the 
four lived to tell the tale. To question the morale of such 
men is farcical. The battle on our left raged all day, and 
we were defeated. Our colonel lost his foot. One third of 
our regiment was gone. Great numbers were killed and 
wounded but the troops were as loyal and fought as brave¬ 
ly as any army on earth. This was Hood’s second de¬ 
feat. In two battles, he had lost ten thousand men—more 
than we had lost in the whole campaign, in seventy-four 
days’ battles and skirmishes. It would not take long' with 
such tactics to wipe out the rebel army. 

July 29th we marched back to Atlanta. August 31st 
we marched to Jonesboro and on September 1st we moved 
to the right, threw up temporary works and Hardee’s 
corps fought the Battle of Jonesboro. Hood’s and Stew¬ 
art’s corps were at Atlanta, twenty miles away, and we 
were entirely unsupported. We fought all day against 
seven corps of Yankees. We were surrounded and fought 
in front and in the rear- Fought as General Cleburne al¬ 
ways fought. The Yankees charged our company seven 
lines deep, but our thin line held firm until some of the 
boys happened to discover a line of Infantry charging in 
the rear. Then they began to waver. Our Lieutenant 
Commander Clay jumped on top of the breastworks, wav¬ 
ed his gun, (the sixteen-shooter which the officers of our 
company carried instead of sabres,) and called to his 
men to stand their ground. He was on the breast¬ 
works but a few minutes when he fell, pierced through by 
one of the thousand bullets fired at him. As he fell he 
saw for the first time why his men wavered. He ordered 






_REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 59 

a hasty retreat to the right, and althought dreadfully 
wounded successfully threw the line of battle to the rear. 
He fell in my arms and I got him to an ambulance and 
sent him to a hospital. In Macon we had only one commis¬ 
sioned officer left, John R. Loftin. 

We would have been eaten up entirely, but for the 
coming of night, which gave Hardee a chance to unite his 
corps and throw up intrenchments. He displayed fine 
generalship throughout this engagement. Hardee had 
been offered the command of the army in Tennessee be¬ 
fore Hood took it but had replied: “General Johnston is 
the only man able to command this army, and I will not 
have it.” Here was another terrible defeat for the new 
leader. Our loss at Jonesboro was about 2,500 men. The 
Yanks put our captured men on the train and sent them 
back over the old route. The fort at Dalton was garri¬ 
soned by negro troops. A great number of these negroes 
were at the station when the prisoners arrived. They in¬ 
sulted our men, and tried to take them from the train, 
yelling, “No quarter, if we get you on the field.” If white 
troops had not come to protect them there would have 
been serious trouble. 

Our corps camped on the Macon road- It was a dark 
night and was raining heavily. By the flashes of lightning 
we saw the train of army ambulances coming out of At¬ 
lanta, and we heard female voices singing Dixie and other 
Southern songs. These were brave women, non-combat¬ 
ants, driven from their homes by the infamous order of 
Sherman. They had no shelter, no provision and only the 
clothes they wore. Some bore nursing babes and one wo¬ 
man gave birth to a Dixie boy in the wagon train. Yet 
these glorious women would not show anguish or cry out 
to please the demon general. They shouted for Dixie and 
sang on their dreary ride. They went further South out 
of range of the beast of a general. He burned Atlanta 
and made war on women and children for the rest of the 
way on his infamous “march to the sea.” As long as he 




60 


REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 


had Johnston to fight he had no time for his diabolical 
deeds. 

September 12th we marched to Palmetto and camped 
there, and President Davis came to review his thrice de¬ 
feated army. Beforehand a general order was read, that 
no cheers should be given on this review. Never-the-less, 
when Davis reached the center of the troops every man on 
the field joined in one mighty volume of sound, “Hurrah 
for General Johnston.” They knew it would be impossi¬ 
ble to court-martial the entire army. 

October 1st we crossed the Chattahoochee river at 
Moore Bridge. October 9th we crossed the Talacatacline 
river and went up the railroad as far as Dalton held by the 
negroes who had promised 1 “no quarter” to our boys. Gen¬ 
eral Cheatham detailed our brigade to guard the wagon 
train through a different route about four miles from Dal¬ 
ton, while he took Granberry’s Brigade and our Texas 
troops to attack the fort. As we fought side by side in so 
many hard battles the Texas men asked that the Arkan¬ 
sas regiment (not on the ground) should have the honor 
of charging the fort, and this General Cheatham prom¬ 
ised. He surrounded the fort and demanded its surren¬ 
der. This was refused. While the artillery made ready 
the Texans passed the word down the line as though it 
came from General Cheatham, “Kill every damn one of 
them,” which would have been carrying out their own 
threat of “no quarter.” However, they saved their necks 
by five minutes, for when the white officers saw they were 
overwhelmingly surrounded they gave up. The prisoners 
were put to work at tearing up the railroad track. One of 
the negroes protested against the work as he was a ser¬ 
geant. When he had paid the penalty for disobeying or¬ 
ders the rest tore up the road readily and rapidly. That 
evening the Texas command moved over to us. We heard 
them yelling and singing but we did not know what had 
happened. They were guarding the negro prisoners, and 



61 


REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 

were calling to us, “Here are your ‘no quarter’ negroes, 
come and kill them!” The poor negroes, with eyes popped 
out nearly two inches, begged, prayed, and made all sorts 
of promises for the future. They soon rpoved on out of 
sight and the general turned them over to the engineering 
corps, where they did splendid service. This was better 
than killing them. 

That day as the wagons were in skirmish line ready 
for attack we heard firing in front of our advance column. 
Everything stopped and we made ready for action- Ad¬ 
vancing, we discovered the cause of the tumult. A squad 
of scouts, whose captain was a man with long red hair, 
had given a great deal of trouble to the Yankees in 
that vicinity. Because he was an Independent Scout he 
had been outlawed and a price was placed upon his head. 
He and his outlaws were desperate fellows and accepted 
“no quarter” clause. This squad was on our road and as 
it happened, met a squad of twenty-two Yankee scouts 
coming down the same road. The red-headed captain and 
his five men charged the superior squad, wounded six and 
killed four. The rest of the Yankees fled in haste. We 
were close upon them, so Red Head could not kill the 
wounded. He and his men took to the mountains and we 
never saw them again. 

We passed through Cedar Town and Cave Spring, and 
camped on Coosa river. We passed through Center and 
camped on Terrapin Creek- We crossed Chuckluck moun¬ 
tains and camped at Jacksonville. We crossed Coosa at 
Gordon and camped on Sand mountain. We camped on 
Black Morgan river. 

On October 27th we marched seven miles and camped 
in line around Decatur. It was a rainy night, so dark we 
could not see our file leader. If there were any roads we 
could not see them. It was impossible to finish the line of 
battle. The army had lost its way. I was standing beside 
the other boys holding to a small sapling when a new line 
came up, moving as best they could in a hog path, each 
man guessing at the way and calling to the man in front. 





62. 


REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 


A log- about knee high lay across the path and I saw* three 
different soldiers strike that log and fall over it into the 
muddy slash. Each time the man’s gun went splashing 
ahead striking the fellow in front. There was cussin‘ all 
along the line. Finally we ran out on the log and warned 
others who came along, turning them safely around that 
point. On October 28th we went further in, completed 
the line and fought the Battle of Decatur. The night af¬ 
ter the battle it turned so cold we nearly froze to death, 
but we did not mind marching over frozen ground. 

October 30th we marched thirty miles and passed 
Courtland, Alabama. On the 31st we marched twelve 
miles and camped at Tuscumbia. November 13th we 
crossed the Tennessee on a pontoon bridge at Florence. 
November 14th we built breastworks. On the 22nd we 
marched thirty-two miles and crossed the state line into 
Tennessee. On the 23rd we passed Warrenton, the 25th 
through Henryville, and the 26th through Mount Pleas¬ 
ant. We camped on General Pillow’s place. He had a 
grand old Southern home. A fine brick mansion, sur¬ 
rounded by beautiful groves with splendid diveways. He 
had his own church, a comfortable and pretty brick build¬ 
ing. These cultured people of the best blood of the South 
lived in this ideal spot and educated their children by 
teachers who lived in the home. Two members of this 
family, Ed Pillow and J. D. Pillow, live in Helena, where 
they still keep up the family customs and traditions. 

November 27th we marched nineteen miles and 
camped near Columbia. The enemy under Schofield had 
retreated from Mount Pleasant to Columbia and had en¬ 
trenched in a formidable position. We went around them 
and crossing the Duck river on pontoon and rail bridges, 
we double-quicked to Spring Hill and engaged the enemy 
with Cleburne’s Division- Our regiment was one of the 
first in action, after the cavalry had skirmished with them. 
Night overtook us and we could not see to fight. Forrest 
wished to atack them, even in the night, but was not per- 



REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 


63 


mitted. As their force was much superior to ours, it 
would have been useless. Hood did not think they would 
retreat, but at daylight, when he began to complete his 
line, surrounding them, he discovered that they had flown 
to Franklin! With muffled cannon, silently and swiftly, 
Schofield had fled through the night. 

Company G lost some good men at Spring Hill. We 
established a hospital there, with Dr. Brickie and Dr. 
Gray in charge to care for the wounded. We brought the 
ordnance from Columbia and followed the enemy. 

The Yankees had been reinforced and had entrenched 
at Franklin, behind the works' they had built some months 
before. In front of their works was an open field with not 
a tree or ravine for a mile and a half. Just before the 
breastworks was an open ditch six feet wide and three 
feet deep. At the end of the ditch next to the breast¬ 
works, were placed poles sharpened spear-shape. Their 
main works were six feet at the base. The cannon-breast 
portion was cut down so that the guns, resting on oak 
logs, were on a level with our bodies. Behind the whole 
was a thicket of locust trees, as close together as they 
could possibly grow. After the battle these trees were 
found to have been cut off level with the breastworks by 
Confederate balls. 

As a description of this battle of Franklin, November 
30, 1864, I insert an extract from the Park Marshall ad¬ 
dress delivered forty-eight years afterward: 

“I was born at Franklin, and as a small boy I visited 
this battle field when the smoke had scarcely disappeared, 
and the impression of that morning is still in my memory. 
Without exaggeration I may say that the severest battle 
of modern history was fought on these plains- In the 
forefront of that battle there were not over 20,000 Union 
troops, not over 15,000 Confederates, yet the killed on one 
side was greater in two or three hours than occurred on 
any one day on one side in any other battle of the Civil 
War, except Antietam. 

“All the generals objected to the charge. Forrest, 
the best cavalry leader in the South, begged Hood to 



64 


REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 



BEN ADLER. 






REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 


65 


change his murderous plan, saying, T know every hog- 
path in this county, and I can show you a route! which will 
give us a chance/ 

“The lesser generals entered their protest along with 
the great generals. Men of world-wide fame, and pri¬ 
vates too, had their opinion, but not the right to speak. 

“To send soldiers against such a position was suicid¬ 
al. Every man in the South available for service was in 
the field. When these men were killed the Confederacy 
was destroyed. Oh, for a Johnston before the fatal word 
was given! Against every protest Hood ordered the ad¬ 
vance. What were Cleburne’s last words to his noble war¬ 
rior boys ? 

“Boys, we are ordered to charge the works. I don’t 
think we can take them, but we can try. Forward!” 

“In thirty minutes this glorious patriot’s blood was 
flowing upon the ground. The advance was made without 
a halt, but men were mowed down as wheat before the 
reaper. They marched to the breastworks and scaled the 
walls, but they were bayoneted on top of the works and 
fell over on the enemy. Seven dead generals were brought 
and laid on this porch—Cleburne, Granberry, Strahl, Gist, 
Carter and Adams. Adams fell, leaving his dead horse on 
the very crest of the breastworks. Cleburne’s horse fell 
also crossing the works. This is one of the most heroic 
pictures of the war.” 

Sixty per cent of our army was killed and wounded. 
The enemy retreated to Nashville after the best day’s 
work (for them) they had ever done. 

Our company had but one officer left. We were con¬ 
solidated with Company B and the two together scarcely 
made a full company. The whole regiment was consoli¬ 
dated into six companies, instead of ten. 

The enemy’s loss was slight compared with ours. The 
bravest of the blood of the South was poured out for noth¬ 
ing. Who was right, Johnston or Hood? 

We followed Schofield to Nashville and invested that 



66 


REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 


post, but we were outnumbered, as he had been re-inforc- 
ed from every quarter. He broke our line and captured 
about half of our regiment. My friend, Bob Bond was 
captured; Logan too, and many others. 

We retreated in quick time. Near Spring Hill a sqad 
of about fifty cavalrymen made a dash through our line, 
as we had stacked arms and were preparing to camp for 
the night, and went far to the rear. Coming along the 
pike, never dreaming of danger, were four soldiers, bear¬ 
ing a wounded man on a litter. The Yankee squad shot 
the doctor’s horse, wounding the doctor and killed one of 
the four soldiers. As the poor fellow fell, the wounded 
man rolled out on the pike- The front line, recovered from 
its surprise, grabbed the guns, surrounded the Yankees, 
captured them and made things lively for them for awhile. 

We crossed the river at Columbia on two pontoon 
bridges, one for Forrest’s cavalry, being about two hun¬ 
dred yards below us, down the river. It was almost dark, 
but skirmishing was still going on, when Forrest’s pon¬ 
toon broke loose, leaving him, his staff and about two hun¬ 
dred of his cavalry. 

Our ordnance was crossing on our bridge, and all was 
over except two wagons. Our regiment was waiting on 
the bank. General Cheatham and his staff were at the 
top of the bank. General Forrest rode up to our bridge 
and was about to cut off the three wagons of ordnance 
when the driver whipped up his horses to join the other 
wagons. Forrest took his pistol and threatened to kill 
him if he attempted to go on the bridge ahead of the cav¬ 
alry. The driver was quite plucky. He said his orders 
were to follow the ordnance train; if General Forrest did 
not like it he must go to higher officers. Forrest was fu¬ 
rious. He spurred his horse and went to General Cheath¬ 
am, swearing he would cross that bridge ahead of the ord¬ 
nance. General Cheatham was perfectly calm, and ex¬ 
plained that he wished to get the wagons over before 
night, and into camp, so he could lay his hands on his ord¬ 
nance. Forrest was not pacified. He drew his pistol and 
threatened to shoot Cheatham, who rode to him at once, 



REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 



W. T. BARNES. 

Now living at Marianna, Arkansas 








68 REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 

saying, “Shoot; I am not afraid of any man in the Con- 
federacy.” 

The infantry with loaded guns, closed in around 
them, prepared to defend Cheatham. The cavalrymen, 
who had not heard what was said, came up the hill to see 
what was going on. Forrest’s adjutant plunged between 
the two generals and pulled Forrest down toward the 
bridge. By that time the wagons were over. So General 
Forrest and his troops crossed the bridge without further 
parley. It might have been a terrible tragedy. If either 
general had been killed, we would have had war r ght 
there- 

Next day Forrest sent an apology to Cheatham, at 
least so it was reported. The affair was witnessed by our 
company, but it was kept quiet as we had troubles enough 
without fighting each other. Forrest was a great officer 
and a fine cavalry leader, but he was tyranical and hot¬ 
headed. 


December 20th we marched all day on the pike to Pu¬ 
laski in a cold rain—a rain that froze on the trees. We had 
to sleep on the wet ground. Many men were barefooted 
and marched over the pike with bleeding feet. We were 
called the “straggling sauad” because we had to march 
more slowly than the others, and we were between the in¬ 
fantry and the rear cavalry, commanded by Forrest. In 
his mind a straggler deserved death. When he came up to 
a poor little squad he struck one, a Lieutenant, who was 
in charge, of the barefoot squad, over the head with his 
sword and ordered him to go on and keep up with his com¬ 
mand. He would listen to no excuse, as if these barefoot¬ 
ed men, braving sleet and snow with bleeding feet, were 
not doing their duty as loyally as any man in the army- 

These incidents are a part of the unwritten history; 
merely a few things that I know to be facts in our army 
life with Company G. 

We established a hospital at Pulaski to care for our 
sick and wounded, and left it in charge of Dr. Brickie. I 
went to the Colonel of our regiment and told him I feared 






REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 


69 


Dr. Brickie would detail me to be his druggist; that I 
wanted a pass so I could go on ahead and meet the com¬ 
mand beyond the town. He gave it to me and I had gotten 
about half a mile beyond Pulaski, when I heard a horse 
galloping behind me. It was the Division Surgeon, Dr. L., 
who stopped me, saying, “Are you Bill Bevens of Compa¬ 
ny G, First Arkansas.” 

“I am.” 

“I detailed you to report to Dr. Brickie, corps surgeon 
in charge of Corps Hospital at Pulaski.” 

“I won’t do it.” 

“If you don’t, I will have you court-martialed.” 

“All right, but I won’t go.” 

After he rode away I thought more soberly. I had 
been in the army four years and had never been arrested. 
Perhaps I had better go. I went back, but I gave it to Dr. 
Brickie. I told him there were a hundred druggists in 
that army; why didn’t he get some other one? He an¬ 
swered that he had selected me because he knew I would 
not drink his whiskey nor give it away to “bums,” but 
keep it for the sick. I told him I would give away every 
spoonful of it. I told him it was all right for him to be 
captured. He would be paroled. But I should be sent to 
Johnson’s Island to freeze. 

He said he would arrange that. He knew all the as¬ 
sistant surgeons and told them when we were captured 
they must address me as “Doctor.” He ordered Dr. Gray 
to take charge of Ward 4, but to call it my ward. 

So the army went without me and I felt sad indeed. I 
had not been separated from my comrades before. But 
“It is not what you want that makes you fat, but what 
you have.” 

Forrest’s cavalry was the last to leave. High officers 
would call on Dr. Brickie, cough and say they were ill, 
hoping he would give them a drink. He was a positive 
man and all men looked alike to him. The reply was al- 



70 


REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 

ways, “Not a darned drop; it is for the sick and wound¬ 
ed.” The cavalry surgeons would beg for some, but to no 
purpose, for they got the same answer. 

The infantry had been gone four days. Some of our 
patients had been taken to the homes of the good South¬ 
ern women, some had gone with the cavalry, on horseback 
and in wagons- There was a big decrease in our hospital. 
About three o’clock in the afternoon Dr. Brickie told me I 
could go and gave me a pass. He added, “Here are ten 
plugs of tobacco; you can hire some of the cavalry fel¬ 
lows to let you ride, and you may keep up with them.” 

I left him with a glad heart, but I did not know what 
I was up against. A lone web-foot to keep up with For¬ 
rest’s Cavalry! I was certainly used to hardships, but 
that was more than I could do, to save my life. I went 
over the muddy road until my wind was almost gone, and 
I had to rest. One of our boys belonging to Hardee’s 
Guards, came along and spying me, rode up to whnre I 
was saying, “Bill, is that you?” You have too much bag¬ 
gage. Give me some of it, and I will deliver it to your 
regiment wagons when I got back to the army. 

I unloaded, rested for an hour and struck out again. 
The cavalry was ahead of me. I moved faster, for a Yan¬ 
kee rear does sometimes hurry a fellow. 

I went all night; slept in the road and at daylight 
started again, making a good day’s march- Late in the 
evening I found I was near the cavalry again, so I made 
great strides to catch up. Ahead I saw a bridge across a 
stream and Forrest and his staff walking on the gravel 
bar. I hoped I could slip over before they saw me and 
handed the guard my pass. He said, “You will have to 
show it to General Forrest ” I was frightened sure 
enough. General Forrest did not care for passes or any¬ 
thing else when out of humor. I had faced a thousand 
Yankee guns, but I couldn’t face Forrest! 

I waited some distance off, hoping he would go to an 
other part of the line, but he seemed to attend to that 
bridge himself. Finally he did walk away a few paces. 




REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 


71 


Then I ran up to the adjutant, showed him my pass, and he 
waved the guard to let me go over. 

I tried to beat Forrest to the next bridge, but when I 
got there he was on the bank higher above it. By their 
firelight I could see the infantry across the river and I 
thought, ‘‘I am safe now.” When I reached the pontoon 
bridge over the Tennessee, the cavalry was crossing. I 
started across in the dark, but the guard stopped me. 
“You can’t cross here—pass or no pass—you will have to 
see General Forrest.” I argued with that guard, but it 
did no good- Then I thought to myself, “He will not 
shoot into his own mem,” and I said, “I am going across 
and you may shoot me if you like.” I ran past him. He 
could not see me in the dark, or he might have shot. 

After I got across the bridge I found that my com¬ 
mand had gone two days before, so I camped all night by 
the straggler’s fire. It was one of the worst nights of the 
campaign. A biting cold wind was blowing and we fairly 
froze to the ground. For two days I followed my regi¬ 
ment. My rations gave out and I was trudging along the 
road, forlorn and very hungry, when I heard some one call 
me. It was a boy of Company G, detailed with the enl 
gineers’ corps. I stayed with him that night- He had 
plenty of grub and filled me up. 

December 27th, we passed Tuscumbia and on the 29th 
we camped at Iuka. On this march we crossed F.ear Creek 
on a railroad bridge. The mules were unhitched from the 
wagons and led across. When I got there a fine pair of 
mules were on the bridge. They got half way over, then 
mule-like, decided they would back a little, and they back¬ 
ed clear off the bridge and went under the water, head and 
ears, to the amusement of the web-foot soldiers. 

January 1, 1865, we marched seven miles and camped 
near Corinth. Here we washed up, and felt of ourselves, 
to see if we were all there- Here I caught up with my 
command. I surely was glad to see the boys and they 
were to see me, for they supposed I was eating rats on 
Johnson’s Island. There were not many of us left. The 
killed, wounded and captured at Nashville had about fin¬ 
ished the “shooting-match.” 



72 


REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 





ROBT. D. BOND. 











REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 


73 


We traveled over the Mobile & Ohio railroad to Tu¬ 
pelo, from which place I was sent to Aberdeen to bring 
the medical wagons to Alesia, where they were to be put 
on cars and taken to South Carolina. At Richmond 
(while I was in Aberdeen) it was decided to give a fur¬ 
lough to seven men of every company, so we might visit 
our homes in Arkansas. The boys put my name in the 
hat and drew for me and I got it. The other boys who 
got furloughs left at Meridian to make their way to Ark¬ 
ansas. They meant to take chances at crossing the river 
to get home. I was waiting at the Alesia station to de¬ 
liver my medical supplies. The officer who came to ship 
them said, “Isn’t your name Bill Bevens?” I said, “Yes”. 
“Well, you have a furlough for 120 days to go to Arkan¬ 
sas.” I said, “You are wrong. I never applied for one. 
Never have had o*ne. I have been with the army nearly 
four years and have never seen Arkansas in all that time.” 

But as the train flew by, the boys yelled at me that I 
had a furlough; so I went to see about it. It was at the 
Eighth Arkansas headquarters and I had no authority to 
stop. I had to go to South Carolina before I could get it. 
My crowd went without me. 

I went on with the army. At Mobile some of us went 
again to the Battle House restaurant. We ate three ra¬ 
tions in one meal, and our bill was one hundred and twen¬ 
ty dollars. Our paper currency had taken a great fall- 

It was a cold ride down on the Mobile & Ohio rail¬ 
road. The soldiers were thinly clad and few of them had 
shoes. One or two men froze, riding on top of the cars. 
We traveled to Milledgeville, Georgia, and from there we 
had to march over a forty mile gap to the Augusta road. 
I found my friends, Ed Dickinson, Ben Adler and Thad 
Kinman were still in Augusta. They got me a new gray 
suit with a long tail coat- I sure was dressed in the 
height of style, but my shoes hardly corresponded to my 
suit. They were not very stylish. 

In South Carolina I got my furlough, told my com¬ 
rades good-bye, and took letters from them to the home- 
folks. 

General Cheatham was in a box car and I got on the 


74 


REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 



Left to Right: THAD KINMAN, ED DICKINSON, BEN ADLER. 

These were my friends who gave me good cloth es instead of common, regulation clothes. They belonged to 

the Quartermaster’s Department- 











































_ REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 75 

same car. It was the first time I had seen him since the 
quarrel with Forrest. I told him I had a furlough and I 
wanted to get transportation. He seemed to doubt it and 
said, “Let me see your furlough.” He looked at the signa¬ 
ture and he knew it was genuine. 

Securing transportation I went back to Augusta. I 
went out to Belair, ten miles from the city, where my un¬ 
cle had a summer residence. He was very kind to me. 
Next morning we went into the city and found a great 
commotion. General Beauregard was placing all strag¬ 
glers in the guard house. My uncle said, “Son, you go 
back to Belair and I will see General Beauregard about it. 
But I answered, “The general will have you in the guard 
house if you go to bothering him. I have an authority 
that ranks him or any general, as it is by order of the war 
department.” 

When we went back to Belair that night my uncle 
presented me with a fine pair of boots which cost $100. 
Then my stylish outfit was complete. I told them good¬ 
bye, went to see Ed Dickenson, Ben Adler and Thad Kin- 
man, and left for home. 

I got to Forty Mile Gap. I had more baggage than 
when I went down. As I marched along one of the driv¬ 
ers of the four-mule wagons asked if I wanted to ride. A 
web-foot never refused. He said he would walk if I 
would ride and drive, but I told him I had never driven a 
four-mule team in my life. 

“Oh, that’s all right,” said he, “the mules follow the 
wagon ahead without a driver.” 

I rode his mule and drove his wagon, stylishly dress¬ 
ed, as I have said, in my long-tailed coat and fine new 
boots. The Virginia soldiers going on foot to their com¬ 
mand, guyed me greatly. “When the war is over I bet 
that fellow will never tell that he drove a wagon train.” 
Then others would yell, “Don’t that guy look fine with his 
gay clothes on ?” General Walthold came along and at¬ 
tracted by my dress, eyed me muchly. I did not know what 
was in my wagon, and to avoid inquiry, and trouble for 






76 


REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 


the driver, I began to whip up the mules, looking the oth¬ 
er way. But that didn’t work. The general called out au¬ 
thoritatively, “What have you, sir, in that wagon ?” 

“Quartermaster’s supplies,” I answered, hastening 
on. Soon I passed the danger line for myself and the 
driver and was safe from any general (except a Yankee 
General!) 

I stayed with the driver until two o’clock in the 
morning, when I had to leave for Milledgeville, to be in 
time for the outgoing train. I got there ahead of time, 
and witnessed one of the sad trials of refugees. An old 
man and his daughter, a beautiful young girl, were appar¬ 
ently in great haste to get their baggage off on the train, 
and seemed relieved when they had stowed away the last 
package. They themselves were just getting on the train 
when two policemen arrested the old man and started 
back to town with him. There were eight or ten Arkan¬ 
sas and Texas soldiers on the train. They could not see a 
nice young girl driven off the cars, and her father treated 
like a criminal. When she began to cry the crisis had ar¬ 
rived. They jumped off with their guns and pistols and 
took the old man from the policemen, gave him a pistol, 
saying, 'kill them both, and we will bury them right 
here-” The old man refused to shoot, but the policemen 
did not tarry, nor did they come back. 

At Montgomery I was joined by Tobe Hicks, who was 
going to Helena, Arkansas. As he had come but lately 
from the Trans-Mississippi army on some war business, 
and knew the route across the river, I decided to stick to 
him. 


We took a boat to Selma, on the Alabama river. 
There were many comrades on board and we passed the 
time in talking of the war. From Selma we went to King¬ 
ston, which was twenty-two miles from the railroad. We 
had to hurry to meet the train. We left at twelve o’clock 
and walked the ties to the junction, doing the twenty-two 
miles by seven o’clock. It was hard on Tobe Hicks. To 
our dismay we missed the train by five minutes and there 
was no other. We slept on the ground that night and 



77 


REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 


next morning started on the hundred mile walk to Meri¬ 
dian. 

At Meridian we took the Jackson railroad, but had 
been on the train only three hours when we came to a 
wash-out bridge and had to walk again. 

At Panola we gave a negro ten dollars to put us 
across the river in a skiff. Everywhere was water, water, 
water. 

When we could go no further we fell in with four 
men going down Cold Water on a flat boat with two bales 
of cotton. We told our tale of woe and they agreed to let 
us go with them if we would pull the boat. Although we 
had always lived on a river, we had never played deck 
hands. But this was no time to be dignified. We laid 
hold of the oars and played deck hand for two days and a 
night. They were hard steamboat men. We could stand 
it no longer. Late in the afternoon Tobe said, “Let’s land 
here.” We landed and took off our traps. They tried to 
bully us into going on, but we were used to bluffs, and 
they couldn’t work it. 

By walking ridges and wading sloughs, we came to 
the Mississippi. It was miles wide- We went to the 
house of a man whom Hicks knew. He told us the Yan¬ 
kees had patrol boats out every night and we would cer¬ 
tainly be captured. We were between the devil and the 
deep blue sea. If we went back we would be captured; if 
we went on we would be captured. But danger had been 
our meat and drink for four years. We decided to build 
a raft of cedar logs, huge and square and long and light. 
We built it in a slough, back from the river, and when it 
was finished, we went to eat supper with this friend and 
bid him good-bye. Crossing the Mississippi at night on a 
raft could never be the safest journey in the world. With 
the Yankee patrol boat ready to capture us the danger 
was doubled. 

But our friend said he knew of a man who had a skiff 
(if the Yankees had not burned it) that he would come 
for us if we could make him hear. We called and to our 
joy the fellow answered. He landed us at the mouth of 





78 


REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 


St- Francis river about one o’clock in the morning, and we 
gave him our watches and other valuables in payment for 
his services. 

We had to wade again, but we hurried on. At last 
we came to the parting of the ways, for Hicks was going 
to Helena and I to Jacksonport. We felt rather sad at 
separating after walking, wading, riding, playing deck¬ 
hand and building rafts together. 

To guide me Hicks gave me the names of all the men 
on the road who were o. k. About two o’clock in the 
morning I called up one of these o. k. men and asked to 
stay all night. He laughed and said, “It is day now.” 

I told him I had been up all night and must walk for 
my life that day. I must have two hours’ sleep—on the 
floor, anywhere. 

He told me the Yankees would capture me, but if 
they came I could run out the back door to the wood be¬ 
hind. He called me at four o’clock for a cup of coffee and 
a good breakfast, gave me nice lunch for noon, and I was 
walking on the slippery road before daylight. I walked 
for my life and made forty miles that day. When ready 
to pick out a place for the night I went to a house to find 
out where I was. The good woman saw that I was a rebel, 
and asked me what was my command. 

“Cleburne’s old Division, Covan’s Brigade, Army of 
Tennessee,” I answered. 

She burst out crying, “For God’s sake go on,” she 
said, “Last night they captured my son from the same 
command.” 

I declared I was not tired at all, and had a half hour 
more of daylight anyhow. She told me how to get off the 
big road and where to stay all night. I went five miles 
further and when I asked for a night’s lodging the good 
citizen had to be shown my furlough. Then he was glad 



REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 


79 


to see me, gave me a fine supper and a good bed, and went 
with me next morning to show me the short cuts- 

That day I went through' the prairie, nine miles of 
sage grass. All day it poured rain, rain, raijn. When 
about half way across there came a terrific cloudburst and 
I was nearly drowned. I thought, “Oh, to think that, af¬ 
ter my perilous crossing of the great Mississippi, I should 
be drowned on a prairie so near home.” I held my blan¬ 
ket over my head and out in front of me, so that I could 
breathe, and that saved me. Before I got to the next 
house I poured, the water out of my boots and washed my 
socks. I pulled off my pants and washed them. I did this 
because I was afraid the family would not let such a mud¬ 
dy straggler stay all night. But they were nice to me. 

I resumed my journey at daybreak. Bayou Deview 
was out of its banks- I waded to the channel, waist deep. 
I do not know how long I was about it, but I finally got 
across and saw the sand ridges and the big home road. 

I had to cross Cache river at Gray’s Ferry. As a boy 
I had known Dr. Gray but he did not know me. I went to 
the house, introduced myself, and showed him my fur¬ 
lough. He asked when I crossed the Mississippi. I told 
him. Had I walked all the way? I told him I had. Was 
I any relation of Judge Bevens of that district? I told 
him Judge Bevens was my uncle. He finished by saying, 
“You have walked all the way from St. Francis river and 
have not stolen a horse?” I told him I was a gentleman, 
not a horse thief- He said, “Certainly, I will put you 
across the Cache river. He called to a negro to bring two 
horses, and we rode about a mile, to the ferry. There a 
man met us with a skiff and took me across. I went on 
my way and began to know the landmarks. When I 
reached the fork of the roads, (one leading to Au¬ 
gusta; the other to Jacksonport), I sat down to rest. 
Jim Howell, the deputy sheriff rode up. He looked at me 
for a minute, then shouted, “Why, is that you, Bill Bev¬ 
ens, what in hell are you doing here ?” 

I showed him. my furlough and told him about my 
journey. He made me ride, while he walked to his house, 




80 REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 


a few miles up the road. Then he put a little negro up be¬ 
hind me to ride some miles further. 

I met Bill Campbell, who lost a leg at Shiloh. He 
wanted me to stay and talk, but I was headed for home 
and would not stop- I went on to Colonel McCoy’s at Tu¬ 
pelo. I spent the night with Bruce Waddell. He lost a 
leg at Shiloh. It was the first time I had seen him since. 
I helped carry him off the field. It was a happy meeting, 
and we talked nearly all night. He sent a little negro with 
me to Village Creek. I crossed in a canoe and walked the 
rest of the way—six miles—to Jacksonport. 

Home again! Was it only four years ago that the 
Jackson Guards had marched to the Presbyterian church 
to receive its banner from loving hands? How many 
miles we had traveled. How many battles we had fought. 
How many wretched homes and blazing cities we had 
seen- The sorrows, wounds, sufferings and deaths of cen¬ 
turies were crowded into those four years. Oh, the pity 
of it! 

I went straight to my sister’s home. Her little girls 
were dressed in long clothes, “playing lady.” Their moth¬ 
er was at a neighbor’s and one of them went for her, not 
telling her why she was wanted at home. Her surprise 
at seeing me was great, and our meeting joyous beyond 
words. 

She and the children went with me to father’s home 
in the next county. My mother had not heard from me, 
and she did not know whether I was alive or dead. She 
fell on my neck, cried, laughed, shouted. She almost died 
of joy. Father was too happy, and too full for utterance. 

Mother would look at me for hours and could not talk 
for joy- Her dear soul was never happier than now with 
her dear soldier boy safe at home, surrounded by loved 
ones. God gives no boy a better heritage than such a 
sweet Christian home and such love. 

With her boy a thousand of miles away, and no mails, 
her prayers for him were the only connecting links. The 
boy on the field of death remembered his mother’s pray- 



REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 


81 


ers and was comforted in every danger. 

I was unaccustomed to sleeping in a house, and at 
first used to take my blanket to the yard, but mother 
could not stand that and I had to go back. My sisters 
would look under rocks and planks and in various hiding 
places and bring out my jewelry and other treasures 
which they had hidden from the Yankees. 

Before my furlough was out came the news of Gen¬ 
eral Lee’s surrender at Appomatox. The long cruel war 
was over and I was separated no more from my home and 
mother. At Jacksonport I met the boys who had been 
furloughed with me, but had reached home first—John R. 
Loftin, Forrest Dillard, Haggerton and others. It was 
good to be with the old comrades once more- We took up 
our work again. I began selling drugs. I married here 
and am still in Jackson county, at Newport, Arkansas. 

(THE END.) 



82 


REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 


Jacksonport, Ark., April 24, 1877. 

At an informal meeting called at Col. L. C. Gause’ 
law office, the following members of the old Jackson 
Guards, or Company “G,” First Arkansas Regiment, In¬ 
fantry, were present: 

L. G Gause, John R. Loftin, M. A. Mull, Clay Lowe, 
Peter Bach and W. E. Bevens. Also by invitation Frank 
W. Lynn. 

On motion, L. C. Gause was chosen temporary chair¬ 
man and W. E. Bevens temporary secretary. By consent 
of those present, we propose to organize the old Jackson 
Guards and all members are invited and solicited to invite 
and solicit all members they see and know of, and ask all 
to meet at Col. L. C. Gause law office on Saturday, April 
28th, 1877, to get up a re-organization and celebration by 
the 5th day of May, and the secretary is ordered to invite 
those of the Company we know of at a distance to be with 
us on the 5th day of May, 1877. Also to invite General F. 
Fagan; also John W. Colquitt, our last Colonel. 

A committee on finance was appointed by the presi¬ 
dent, Peter Bach. Also a committee consisting of the fol¬ 
lowing persons: John R. Loftin, W. E. Bevens, Peter 
Bach, M. A. Mull, Clay Lowe, to look after the dinner and 
see when we will have it and at what hour, and make pre¬ 
parations for the same. Col. L. C. Gause was appointed a 
committee of one to draw up resolutions of re-organiza¬ 
tion, also to address the meeting and to invite Captain J. 
C. Matthews and wife and all the widows of the Jackson 
Guards. Also to invite Frank W. Lynn- 

Meeting adjourned to meet on Saturday, April 28th, 
1877, at Col. L. C. Gause’s office. 

L. C. GAUSE, President. 

W. E. BEVENS, Secretary. 



REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 


83 


Jacksonport, Ark., May 4th, 1877. 

At a regular meeting of the Jackson Guards at the 
residence of Mart A. Mull, the following members were 
present: 

L. C. Gause, temporary chairman; W-E. Bevens, 
temporary secretary; John R. Loftin, H. Clay Lowe, Pe¬ 
ter Bach, G. K. Stephens, John Cathey, F. W. Dillard, W. 
D. Shackleford, Jasper May, Frank Richardson, J. B. Wad¬ 
dell, James Hudson, Robert D- Bond, M. A. Mull. 

The following resolutions were adopted: 

RESOLVED: 

That We, the surviving members of the Jackson 
Guards, for the purpose of re-organizing ourselves for a 
social re-union, will annually on the 5th day of May, elect 
from our members the following officers: One President; 
One Vice President; One Secretary and Treasurer; and 
the President shall appoint three members as an executive 
committee to serve one year and shall exercise the pow¬ 
ers and perform the duties usual to such offices respec¬ 
tively. 

ON MOTION: 

The secretary be ordered to publish four weeks be¬ 
fore the next annual meeting, in both County Newspapers, 
notices when and where it shall be held. 

RESOLVED: 

That the Jackson Guards do hereby tender their sin¬ 
cere thanks to Mrs. Laura Ewing for the beautiful bou¬ 
quet tendered us on this occasion. 

RESOLVED: 

By the Jackson Guards, that our sincere thanks be 
hereby tendered Mr. M. A. Mull and kind lady for the hos¬ 
pitable donation of their home for our re-union, and grand 
dinner at which he have had the time of our lives talking 
over old times once more and for their supervision over 
the same. 

RESOLVED: 

That our thanks are also tendered our Lady Friends 
and wives for their presence and assistance in our dinner. 



84 


REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 


We, the undersigned surviving members of the Jack- 
son Guards agree to organize ourselves in accordance with 
the foregoing resolution: 


W. D. Shackelford, 
John R- Loftin, 
Jasper May, 

Frank Richardson, 
J. B. Waddell, 

Robt- D. Bond, 
James Henderson, 


L. C. Gause, 
W. E- Bevens, 
H. Clay Lowe, 
Peter Bach, 


G. K- Stephens, 
John A. Cathey, 
F. W. Dillard, 


M. A. Mull, 

A. C. Pickett was elected President. 

L. C. Gause was elected Vice President. 


The President not being present the Vice President 
presided and appointed the following as an executive com¬ 
mittee : 

J. B. Waddell, Mart A- Mull, 

John R. Loftin. 

ON MOTION: 

The following members were appointed to assist in 
perfecting the organization: 

H. Clay Lowe, F- W. Dillard, Robt. D. Bond, and on 
motion L. C. Gause was added. 

ON MOTION: 

Of Mr. Clay Lowe, the following resolution was 
adopted: 

WHEREAS, Since the organization of this Company 
sixteen years ago, many of our Brave Comrades 
have passed away, many on the battlefield, daring and 
dying for their Country, others from disease, therefore, 

RESOLVED, That we will ever cherish their mem¬ 
ory, emulate their virtues and honor their heroism, and 
that as a testimonial of our love and respect we erect, at 





REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 


85 


an early day as possible a suitable monument to the dead 
of the Jackson Guards- 
L. C. Gause, 

W. E. Bevens, 

H. C. Lowe, 

Peter Bach, 

G. K- Stephens, 

F. W. Dillard, 

W. D. Shackelford, 

John R. Loftin, 

John Cathey, 

Those who have answered our Call but could not 
come : 


Jasper May, 

Frank Richardson, 
J- B. Waddell, 
James Hudson, 
Robert A. Bond, 
W. T. Barnes, 

M- A. Mull. 


Captain A. C. Pickett, Luther Steadman, 

Wm. Burnell, John Murphy, 

Lyman B. Gill, Jerry Love, 

B. F- McCowari, George W. Roberts, 

Lem McKee, Austin Choate, 

Lon Steadman, Mart Howard. 

All of whom are the total known living at that time, 
(1877.) 

And now, March 5th 1913, there are only living, as 
far as we know, out of 154 members on May 5, 1861: 

John Loftin, Luther Steadman, 

Lon Steadman, W. T. Barnes, 

John Cathey, W- E. Bevens. 


THE ORIGINAL MUSTER ROLL OF COMPANY “G” 
FIRST ARKANSAS REGIMENT, INFANTRY, 
JACKSON GUARDS. 


Colonel James Fagan’s Regiment. 
General Polk’s Brigade, 

General D. C. Govan’s Brigade, 
Cleburne s Division, 

Hardee Corps, 

Army of Tennessee. 





86 


REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 


FIRST OFFICERS ELECTED MAY 5TH, 1861. 


1. Captain A. C. Pickett in 1862, Colonel of Steans Mo., 
8 Regiment. 

2. 1st Lieutenant L. C. Gause in 1862, Col. of 32 Ark. 
Regiment. 

3. 2nd Lieut. L. L. Moore, Discharged. 

4. 3rd Lieutenant George Paine, Discharged. 


NON-COMMISSIONED OFFICERS. 

3rd. First Sergeant James F. Hunter, transferred. 
2nd Sergeant W. B. Densford. discharged over age. 
3rd Sergeant John R. Loftin. 

4th Sergeant Peter Bach, wounded by Cliff Dowell. 
5th Sergeant H. C. Lowe. 

4. First Corporal John M. Waddell. 

2nd Corporal Sam Shoup. 

3rd Corporal Henry Clements. 

4th Corporal W. E. Bevens. 


OFFICERS FROM MARCH 1862 to 1865. 

5. Captain Sam Shoup, wounded on July 22nd at Atlanta. 

6. 1st Lieut. A. T. Walthall, killed at KenesawMountains. 

7. 2nd Lieut. H. C. Lowe, wounded at Chickamauga and 
Jonesboro. 

8. 3rd Lieut. John R. Loftin. 


PRIVATES. 

9. W. T. Barnes, detailed with Bond. 

10. Robert D. Bond, wounded at Atlanta, captured at 
Nashville. 

11. W, H. Baker, discharged over age. 

12. George W. Baker, transferred to Georgia Regiment. 

13. Ben B. Bradley. 

14. William Bunnell, transferred to Navy Department. 

15. John Baird, wounded at Mobile Bay. 

16. T. H. Brogden, killed by James Garrett. 

17. T. A. Byler. ^ 

18. J. J. Bobo, detailed to drive ambulance. 

19. John Boiler. 

20. J. K. Bedwell, died. 

21. Edward Burnett, killed at Kennesaw. 

22. John Baldridge, wounded and captured at Franklin. 

23. Alex Baldridge, wounded at Franklin. 

24. W. E. Bevens, wounded at Shiloh. 

25. Pete Bach, wounded by Cliff Dowell. 

26. W. H. Clayton, killed at Golgotha. 

27. William Cooper, died. 

28. Jack Conn, discharged from sickness. 

29. John A. Cathey, wounded at Shiloh. 

30. Austin Choate, wounded and discharged. 

31. F. Collins, 

32. John Carpenter. 

33. B. L. Covey. _ 





REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 


87 


34. Henry Clements, wounded at Franklin. 

35. E. V. Dale, killed at Shiloh. 

36. George F. Dickson, transferred. 

37. Ed Dempsey, wounded. 

38. Richard Dorsey, discharged. 

39. Thomas B. Davis, died at Dalton. 

40. Allen Davis, killed at Bentonville. 

41. Clifton Dowell, who wounded Peter Bach. 

42. F. W .Dillard. 

43. Ben H. Ferrell, discharged over age. 

44. J. F. Ferrell. 

45. James Falcher. 

46. James Garrett, who killed Brogdens, transferred. 

47. S. S. Gause, transferred. 

48. Arthur Green, killed at Murfreesboro. 

49. Lyman B. Gill. 

50. E. Haggarton, detailed with Pioneer Corps. 

51. Robert Harl. 

52. John D. Heitt. 

53. James Mi. Hensley, wounded at Ringold, killed at At¬ 
lanta. 

54. Dan Hays, discharged over age. 

55. John E. A. Harl, killed at Shiloh. 

56. Jonathan Harrison, wounded at Shiloh. 

57. James Hudson. 

58. Martin Howard, wounded and transferred to Navy. 

59. Richard Haden, transferred to Trans-Miss. Dept. 

60. Joseph Hamilton, transferred. 

61. W. H. Hunter. 

62. Joseph Hubbard, killed at Nashville. 

63. W. H. Henson, died. 

64. Robert A. Hail. 

65. James F. Hunter, transferred. 

66. Lou Harl. 

67. Dave Kelley, died. 

68. B. F. Kinman. discharged. 

69. John Lamb. 

70. Joseph Joslin, transferred. 

71. Wilson Love. 

72. Joe Lax, died. . 

73. Jerry D. Love, wounded. 

74. John D. Love. 

75. Nathen Love. 

76. A. R. Logan, killed at Golgotha. 

77. T. Shannon, wounded at Ringold, captured at Frank¬ 
lin. 

78. Pat Murphy, furnished substitute . 

79. Lemuel McKee, wounded. 

80. Wm. M. Mathews, wounded at Murfreesboro. 

81. J. H. Murphy, discharged. 

82. Jasper May, wounded. 

83. Mart A. Mull, wounded at Chickamauga. 

84. John Moore, transferred. 

85. D. Myers, wounded. 

86. W. H. Moore, killed at Shiloh. 

87. John A. McDonald, wounded. 

88. J. McLain, killed at Shiloh. 

89. B. F. McCowan, wounded. 

90. Dave McCullough, transferred. 

91. W. M. McCartney, discharged. 





88 REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 


92. W. A. Myers. 

93. Robert Morris, discharged. 

94. John M. Murphy. 

95. Dave Mulligan. 

96. John K. Murphy, discharged. 

97. Michael Nash, transferred. 

98. John Orric, died. 

99. W. P. Pinkley, killed at Chickamauga. 

100. Henry Powell, discharged. 

101. Jack Porter, discharged. 

102. J. P. K. Prichard, discharged. 

103. Y. R. Ridley, detailed to General Holmes’ Guard. 

104. G. A. Raney, discharged, over age. 

105. J. W. Robinson. 

106. J. R. Roberts. 

107. G. W. Reager. 

108. Geo. W. Roberts, transferred to Morgan Cavalry. 

109. Joseph R. Roberts, wounded at Missionary Ridge. 

110. W. H. C. Reed, wounded at Munsfordsville, Ky. 

111. John M. Rodgers, wounded. 

112. B. F. Richardson. 

113. J. W. Readen. 

114. George Rice, wounded at Shiloh. 

115. B. F. Reeves, wounded in Cairo. 

116. Fred Roy. 

117. David Roby, transferred. 

118. H. Ratcliff. 

119. Arthur Rhodes, dead. 

120. D. Shackleford, detailed in Government shops. 

121. Alfred Stewart, killed at Franklin . 

322. Tome R. Stone, transferred to Mississippi Army. 

123. James M. Stinson, killed at Jonesboro. 

124. Charley Steadman, killed at Ringold. 

125. Lon Steadman. 

126. Luther Steadman. 

127. Joseph Sample, discharged. 

128. George K. Stephens, discharged. 

129. Henry Smith, died. 

130. R. H. Sallivan, discharged. 

131. R. L. Slaughter. 

132. Pony Stewart, killed at Franklin. 

133. Eli Stringfellow, discharged. 

134. J. H. Sherr. 

135. George Sparling, wounded. 

136. James Seward, discharged. 

137. John B. Trail. 

138. George P. Thomas, wounded at Murfreesboro, killed 
at Atlanta. 

139. M. N. Tucker, discharged. 

140. Joseph Vaughn. 

141. B. F. Vanderfer, wounded. 

142. B. F. Vanderfer, lost a leg at Shiloh. 

143. Boon Winneham. 

144 - Winneham, killed. 

145. W. D. Winneham. 

146. Beverly Willard, discharged over age. 

147. B. F. Whitely. 

148. B. F. White. 




REMINISCENCES OF A PRIVATE 


89 


149. John Wilson, discharged over age. 

150. John M. Waddell, discharged from sickness. 

151. J. B. Waddell, lost a leg at Shiloh. 

152. W. Fletcher Williams, wounded. 

153. Rawlings Young. 


Surgeon of First Arkansas Regiment—Dr. T. R.‘ Ashford. 
Assistant Surgeon of First Arkansas Regiment—Dr. W. 
E. Arnold. 

Killed 19, discharged 29, wounded 38, dead 8, detailed4, 
transferred 18. 


LIST OF ARKANSAS COMPANIES. 
Company A, from Eldorado, Capt. Asa Morgan. 
Company B, from Arkadelphia, Capt. Starks. 
Company C, Camden, Capt. Crenshaw. 

Company D, Pine Bluff, Capt. Dan McGregor. 
Company E, Benton, Capt. W. A. Crawford. 
Company F, Little Rock, Capt. W. H. Martin. 
Company G, Jacksonport, Capt. A. C. Pickett. 
Company H, DeWitt, Capt. Robt. Crockett. 
Company I, Monticello, Capt. Jackson. 
Company K, St. Charles, Capt. Boswell. 


The following is a list of the battles that the Jackson 
Guards, or Company “G.” 1st Arkansas Regiment In¬ 
fantry, was engaged in, from 1861 to 1865: 

First Battle, Manassas, Blockade of Potomac at 
Evansport, Shiloh, Farmington, Corinth, Perryville, 
Chickamauga, Missionary Ridge, Ringold Gap, 74 days’ 
battle from Dalton to Atlanta, Peachtree Creek, Atlanta, 

























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